


No Accounting for Heroes

by Lady_Blackhawk, RedGold



Category: Avengers, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Antisemitism, But not Graphic Violence, Depression, Drama, Fighting Back, Hate Crimes, Original Character Death(s), PG-13 Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Surviving, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 52,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackhawk/pseuds/Lady_Blackhawk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGold/pseuds/RedGold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, the loss of life was devastating, but what of the agents left behind? Rani Feldman is a Forensic Accountant who survived the fall of the Triskelion. Cleared by the FBI, Rani is left to pick up the pieces of her life. Unfortunately, the Jewish accountant is unable to get a job as everyone keeps accusing her of being HYDRA. With her life falling apart around her, she discovers she’s not alone. Thousands of former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have been left homeless, penniless, and without adequate healthcare. Rani can’t help them all, she might not even be able to help a few, and should she even try?</p><p>“This isn’t a story of superheroes and magic. This is a story of how I survived a world of superheroes and magic.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Story by JayCee and Lady Blackhawk.  
> Artwork by ladymechthings 
> 
> Written for the Mary Sue Big Bang
> 
> This story is rated Mature as there are triggering moments dealing with PTSD, Antisemitism, and Death (bodies). Our main character goes through a major trauma, but because she's not one of the 'heroes' she is left to fend for herself. 
> 
> This is the untold story of those the movies never talk about when events such as the Fall of SHIELD occurs. Rani is not a hero, she's not a civilian, but she's caught in the crossfire anyway. I promise you, it will get better, but first it will get much... much worse.

**A young woman with curly, ginger hair and dark rimmed glasses looks into a camera as she hits the recording button. She’s wearing a blue button down shirt, her hair is tied into a ponytail, and she looks unsure of how to proceed. Her chair has wheels and it squeaks as she tries to get comfortable. A small kitchenette visible behind her.**

_Hi. Uh…well, okay, so I’ve never done this kind of thing before…and I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing. I guess I’ll just start from the beginning._

_My name is Rani Feldman and I am, or was, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. I was there, in the West Annex, when the Triskelion fell. I don’t want to sound cliché but that day truly was like some bad dream. One moment I’m banging on the soda machine because it ate my dollar, again, and the next…_

_They say you always have a choice. I used to believe them. Now I’m not so sure._

Rani could not get motivated that morning. She hit the snooze button three times before dragging herself into the shower. Her mass of curls would have to forgo being straightened. Tying her hair back, she put on a pencil skirt and blazer, then made sure her glasses were clean by wiping them with her blouse. The Star of David her mother gave her when she left home was firmly tucked out of view because of regulations.

“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” Her neighbor, Lonette, smirked at her as Rani passed her on her way out. 

“Plenty of time.” Rani tried to remain positive. As long as public transportation was running on time, she’d make it to work with ten minutes to spare. Luckily, there were no delays for once and she made it to the Triskelion without issue.

The West Annex was, as the name suggested, a smaller building west of the main Triskelion. Though in reality it was more North-West, but no one wanted to call it the North-West Annex. The building was often called the Garden seeing as most of the floors were taken up by the bean counters and other administrative types. Rani worked on the fifth floor with the rest of the Forensic Accountants.

“Hey, Rani,” one of her coworkers, Greg, greeted her as they both walked into the building. It always took a few minutes to go through the security checks. “Did you finish the Cozman file?” He asked as he dumped his wallet and keys and stepped through the metal detector. Rani kept close behind.

If she never heard the name Cozman again then she could die happy. “Last night, about nine pm. I thought I was gonna have to sleep here.” 

“Damn.” Greg gave her a sympathetic frown as they headed for the elevator. “Honestly, I’m surprised any work is getting done around here.”

“What could be gained by not doing our jobs?” Rani countered with a shrug. Director Fury was dead, killed in an attack. Captain Rogers had been declared an enemy combatant, which made no sense at all. They were just accountants, what could they do about the situation? That’s why S.H.I.E.L.D. had a whole Academy dedicated to training up people for this kind of work.

“I got orders passed from Agent Sitwell,” Greg said after they entered the elevator. It was just the two of them so he could talk freely. “I’m supposed to go through Captain Rogers’s financial history, looking for anomalies.”

“He was frozen in time for decades,” Rani couldn’t help but give a short laugh. “I helped sort out his back pay. His financial history is nothing but an anomaly.”

_I’d heard the day before that S.H.I.E.L.D. was monitoring Rogers’ bank accounts for large withdrawals and credit card charges. My first thought was ‘does Captain America even have a credit card?’_

_My thoughts really should have been about just how wrong the situation was. I mean, Captain America, an enemy? I told myself it had to be some mistake, or part of some secret plan. After all, this is S.H.I.E.L.D. We’re supposed to trust them… I trusted them._

Rani told Greg he could contact her if he had any questions about the ‘Defrost Settlement’ as she and the rest of the team had called it. It had been a pretty interesting case, dealing with inflation and policy changes over an expanded timeframe. It wasn’t likely to happen again and would have been legendary in the accounting community, had it been made public. To top it off, she didn’t even get to meet the man.

Once the elevator stopped, Rani made her way to her office. It was pretty quiet on the floor. The events of the past few days had pretty much left everyone in a somber mood.

The Cozman case had been Rani’s priority, but now that it was over she could work on some of the small cases that got pushed to the side. Rani had recently been promoted to Level Seven, likely to do with her work on the Defrost Settlement, so she was tasked on some of the more sensitive and black ops cases. With promotions comes responsibility, and with great responsibility comes a bigger paycheck and the douchey boss to go with it.

“Rainy,” a voice called from her office door. 

“Sir,” Rani said with a tight smile.

In truth, she had gotten used to it. People see her name and they want to pronounce it Ray-nee. She’d politely correct them that it’s Rah-nee and move on with her life. A few in the office started to shorten it to Ra and she asked them not to call her that either. She had to explain that she didn’t really like being called the same name as an Egyptian god because, well, she’s Jewish. Being compared to an Egyptian myth didn’t interest her and it wasn’t as if her name was particularly long either. 

Everyone got this, except her boss who insisted on calling her “Rainy.” Likely for no other reason than to annoy her. 

“Good work on the Cozman case.” Her boss, Wilkerson, was flipping through a folder as he leaned against the doorjamb. 

“Thank you, sir,” she replied politely. At least her boss was willing to give credit where credit was due. It was the only thing that made working under him tolerable.

“But I’m going to have Jameson give the review,” he finished his statement with only a slightly apologetic frown.

“Jameson?” Rani nearly stood in her chair. “He helped, yeah, but I did the bulk of the main work.”

“And it will be reflected in your file.” Wilkerson really didn’t seem to care. “But as for presenting the information to the review counsel, Jameson puts forward a better show.”

‘Because he’s a hot young guy and I’m the nerdy Jewish girl,’ is what Rani wanted to say but instead she kept her mouth shut. Don’t rock the boat, she told herself, it will only make things worse. It also didn’t help that confrontation was not Rani’s strong suit. 

“You do great work, Rainy,” he wasn’t oblivious to her anger but was choosing to ignore it, “but that’s only part of the reason you’re Level Seven. The other part is knowing how to play the game.” He always said that and Rani never could understand why.

“Yes, sir.” She was woefully enthusiastic.

Wilkerson left, likely to go tell Jameson the news of getting to go in front of the review council. Once an accountant was finished with their file, they had to present their work to the review council who would decide how actionable it would be. Sometimes this meant sending in operatives right away, other times it could be used as leverage against the transgressor. They might even do nothing at all, just continue monitoring until they decided it was time to act. 

While her work on several high profile cases had always been acknowledged, on paper, and that had gotten her promoted, Rani rarely got the praise first hand. 

_Really, that should have been my first clue that something was really wrong with S.H.I.E.L.D. I mean, I’m so used to this kind of crap that I just shrugged it off as more of the same. The agency couldn’t be 100% perfect, so yeah, nothing surprising about having a dick for a boss. I’m not sure if this says more about me than it does about them._

Rani’s motivation just could not kick into gear after that. She managed to get a few things taken care of, get the ball rolling on others, but otherwise she wanted to crawl back into bed.

Needing a caffeine infusion, Rani headed to the breakroom and got into a fight with the vending machine. First it wouldn’t take her dollar. So she tried another dollar. The third dollar it actually took but didn’t register. 

“Oh, come on,” she grumbled as she pounded on the machine. One would think that a company as technologically advanced as S.H.I.E.L.D., what with their floating ships and fancy weapons, could freaking afford a working vending machine.

Pop. Pop. Bang. Rat-tat. Pop.

Gunfire rang out and Rani ducked down into squat, ripping her skirt slightly. She’d like to think it was training that led her to do so, but it was plain old fear. 

Hearing more shots, she looked across the breakroom toward to the door that led to her office. Glancing up, she could see the TV in the breakroom had gone black except for green lettering: HAIL HYDRA.

HYDRA? Rani knew what it was, what they had done during the war. How Captain America, the Howling Commandoes, and Peggy Carter had finished off the final remnants of the Nazi’s Deep Science Division. A couple of pages were always left for HYDRA in the history books, but Rani’s grandparents had been rescued during WWII from them. HYDRA had used them as test subjects in Ukraine. That word was foul and unclean in her household.

The door to the breakroom burst open and Greg came running through it. He got three steps and his body jerked as he was hit by gunfire that had made it through the open door before it closed. Greg went down hard with a sickening crack, sliding across the floor. 

“Greg!” Rani shouted and rushed over to him. His light grey button up was rapidly turning dark red as blood exited the wounds.

“Run,” he whispered harshly. “Run, Rani.”

The lights went out and an eerie red filled the room. The ominous words glared at her mockingly from the television. Greg let out a horrible wheeze as if every last micron of air left his lungs.

_I’ll never forget that sound._

Rani stood up, though crouched, and ran to the other breakroom door. It exited into an open area of cubicles and she could smell the acrid mix of blood and spent bullets.

_I’ll never forget that smell._

The elevators was a no-go, so the question was if anyone was guarding the stairs. And by anyone, she meant whoever the hell was attacking. This was S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters! How could something like this happen? 

Glowing exit sign in sight, she slipped off her heels so they wouldn’t clack on the floor. Keeping her head low, she made her way slowly past the cubicles. When she got past the third one, she glanced inside and let out a yelp, slapping her hand across her mouth. A Level Four accountant--she couldn’t remember his name--was slumped in the chair. He was dead, one shot to the head, execution style. Already his eyes were glassing over as his body began to decay.

_I’ll never forget that look._

The door to the stairwell opened and Rani quickly moved into the cubicle, squatting down low between the desk and the pre-fab wall. Trying to ignore the body of the man in the chair, she reached up and grabbed the silver stapler off his desk. Using it as a mirror, she managed to get a look at what was happening at the end of the hall. 

Three armed men in assault gear were standing at the door, talking to Wilkerson. She couldn’t really hear what was being said, but there was a clear echoing of ‘Hail HYDRA’ from the men. The men went back into the stairwell and Wilkerson turned around to speak to someone just out of view. He gestured and then started to head her way, down the path between the cubicles. 

Rani held the stapler to herself, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, and balled herself up to be as small as possible. Trying to keep her breathing even, and therefore inaudible, she dared not look as Wilkerson passed. His back would be to her unless he glanced into the cubicle. She didn’t want to give him a reason to turn around by giving him that ‘someone is watching me’ vibe.

“Isn’t this a bit premature?” said Jameson.

“Pierce knows what he’s doing,” Wilkerson responded as he passed.

“We weren’t prepared for this,” Jameson continued. “He turned what could have been a highly precise strike into a carnival game of fish in a barrel.”

“Plans change, we adapt.” Wilkerson stopped a few feet from the cubicle to address Jameson directly. Thankfully it was just far enough to keep her out of view. “Now why don’t you go make sure we got all those fish in the barrel, hmm? McKree, Feldman, and Sanchez are still unaccounted for.”

“I’ll find them.” Jameson headed down one of the other paths cut between the cubicles as Wilkerson continued on.

Rani carefully picked up the receiver of the phone, but the line was cut as there was no dial tone. She had no idea what to do now. The men in assault gear were likely guarding the stairwell. Jameson was now searching for her in particular. There was no way she could stay in that cubicle, a dead man for a companion or not.

Slowly inching out, she left her heels and the stapler behind as she again walked towards the exit. This time, she turned down one of the cross paths and made her way to the offices that lined the back wall. Maybe she could barricade herself in one, or at least hide. She might also find a cellphone she could use to call for help. 

The first door was locked. Mentally cursing, she moved to the next one and found that it the handle moved with a barely audible click. She opened the door and moved inside just as bullets rang out and struck the doorjamb above her head. 

Rani literally threw herself into the room diving to the floor and crawling behind the desk. 

Her glasses knocked sideways and her heart pounding hard in her chest, she barely saw the gun holstered up under the desk. She didn’t know whose office she was in, but she silently thanked them for giving her a fighting chance. She pulled the gun out. It was an automatic with the safety on. Her fingers trembled as she took off the safety and chambered a bullet.

All agents had to take mandatory handgun training and re-certify every few years. For many in her office, these was the only times they ever handled a gun. Rani was no exception, but the adrenaline in her blood made her sharply remember those unused skills.

“Oh, Rainy,” Wilkerson said as he walked slowly through the door, his feet crunching on broken glass. “It would have been nice to have you on our side, if not for you being a dirty Jewess.”

Rani found herself braced against the wall and brought the gun to bear. Wilkerson came into view as he rounded the desk and Rani didn’t even hesitate. She pulled the trigger twice, aiming for center mass. The man stumbled back, shock reading across his face as he hit the wall. He didn’t say anything, just stared at her wide eyed as he slid down, his body collapsing in a heap.

_I’ll never forget that look either._

There was a loud rumbling that shook the exterior wall she was propped against. Grabbing the window ledge, she edged herself up just enough to see outside. Three helicarriers fell from the sky and the main building was wracked with explosions. The Triskelion exploded, spewing out dust and debris. Even up on the fifth floor, the cloud of destruction pounded against the annex and the window above her shattered. 

Ducking down and holding her hands over her head, Rani screamed.


	2. The Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This chapter, and for the rest of the story, has antisemitic triggers.  
> Rani gets treated unfairly due to her connection to SHIELD.  
> This is because unfortunately people are cruel and stupid when they are afraid.

_When the dust cleared, I probably spent a good ten minutes staring out at the wreckage. The main building was down, a hellicarrier was in the Potomac, flashing lights were everywhere, and the sky was littered with helicopters. I wanted to go back to my office to grab my phone and bag but found the way blocked. Something big and metal, I think a turbine blade, had crashed through the wall._

_My entire world seemed to have crashed around me. Literally. I didn’t really have any choices after that. I picked my way out of the office and across to the stairwell, stepping over debris and the dead bodies of coworkers. Some I knew, some I may have bumped into at lunchtime on occasion._

_I’d seen dead bodies in case files. I’ve been to funerals, but this… This isn’t anywhere near the same._

The stairwell was eerily clear, devoid of the muck and dirt that was now covering Rani. She got down two flights when she heard voices come through the bottom floor. Lots of booted men were shouting orders at each other. Instinctively she moved up against the wall so they couldn’t see her, but a lot of good that would do when they made it up to her floor. 

Did she try to go into the third floor and hope they didn’t spot her? Or would she run into Jameson or others like him?

“You three take the second floor,” she heard a vaguely familiar voice say. 

Hazarding a glance over the railing, Rani looked down to see Agent 13 leading several men who all had FBI jackets and vests on. Thanks to her clearance level, Rani knew who the woman was and her relationship to Peggy Carter. A sense of relief came over Rani, wanting to believe she could trust the agent.

After all, if Sharon Carter was working with HYDRA, then life really wouldn’t be worth living at that point.

Holding her hands up in a surrendering gesture, Rani cleared her throat and walked down the stairs. It didn’t take long to meet up with Carter and the FBI agents. Their weapons were drawn and trained on her. 

Carter gestured for them to lower their guns. Rani didn’t take it as an insult that Carter must have looked at her and thought her harmless. “What’s your name?” 

“Rani Feldman,” she replied, her voice gone hoarse. “Level Seven, Forensic Accounting.” Rani began to shake as the adrenaline wore off. All she wanted to do was cry. 

“These men are FBI. You can trust them,” Carter told Rani as she approached. “I want you to go with them. They’ll take you into custody, but it’s just a formality.”

Nodding her head, Rani knew something big must have gone down. She didn’t exactly know what, but it involved HYDRA. Many were dead and the place was in ruins. Answers were needed, answers Rani didn’t have, but they wouldn’t let her go until they knew that. It was all standard operating procedure, stuff she had read in books and manuals. Not that knowing that made it any easier to handle.

She let herself be led away, just wanting to get everything over with so she could go home, shower, and call her mother. Not necessarily in that order.

_I thought the nightmare was over… turns out this was just the opening act._

“Did you call my mother?” Rani asked for the seventeenth time when two FBI agents entered the little room. Rani actually counted all the times she asked, “Can I call my mother?” 

When the FBI had taken her into custody, they removed everything Rani had on her, including her clothes and necklace. They gave her some generic sweats and t-shirt to wear. She was also allowed to keep her glasses, but only after they were thoroughly checked. They were processing many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at once and were taking no chances. 

She spent the rest of the day in a little interrogation room smaller than her college dorm. Different people would come in and ask her questions, sometimes the same exact questions. It was all rather standard, but that didn’t help her disposition any. 

“Your mother has been contacted,” the older agent, Perkins, finally answered her. “We told her you were alive and being held until everything was cleared up.”

That was something at least. 

It was eventually explained to her that apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. had been infested with HYDRA. That Alexander Pierce himself was HYDRA. They didn’t give her the details but apparently the HYDRA portion of S.H.I.E.L.D. was planning on culling the world population of viable ‘threats’. They were stopped by Captain America, Black Widow, Agent Hill, and a few others. 

Suddenly, it all made sense, why Rogers was declared an enemy and all that. But Rani was stuck on the idea that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been a HYDRA front. For the first time in her life, she was glad her grandmother was dead. If she had heard this, it would have broken her heart.

“You were a Level Seven agent, Ms. Feldman,” Perkins reminded her. “You want to tell us again how you didn’t know about HYDRA? You worked on projects we can tie directly to their agenda.”

“Level Seven _Accountant_ ,” she explained for the umpteenth time. “This only meant I was able to work on the financial side of black ops, high level cases. I wasn’t privy to the gritty details. Sometimes they wouldn’t even give us the actual names of the people involved. You know how many times I’ve done financials for the entire crew of the USS Enterprise?”

Perkins maintained his disinterest in her reasoning. “You didn’t think it was strange that Captain America was declared an enemy?”

“Of course I did.” Rani frowned, unable to look at the man. “I just… I trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. I figured there had to be a good reason. Maybe it was a fake-out, something to draw out the men who killed Director Fury.”

_The more I let myself think about it, the more I realize the signs were there. I could kick myself for not seeing them for what they were. But I wanted to trust the company that was started by Howard Stark and Peggy Carter. I believed in what S.H.I.E.L.D. did._

_The real S.H.I.E.L.D., obviously, not HYDRA…I feel I need to emphasize that every time I say S.H.I.E.L.D._

They kept questioning Rani, seeing if her answer would change. They even served her pork chops with a side of milk and mashed potatoes underneath the pork for dinner. She promptly refused. Rani didn’t know if they were just clueless or testing her, but at that point it didn’t matter. The whole situation had made Rani sick to her stomach. She didn’t think she could eat anything at that point. 

“All agents have to certify on hand-guns,” Rani told Perkins during yet another interrogation. “I don’t actually keep one though. What does an accountant need with a gun? I’m not a field agent. I do have mace though… and I keep a baseball bat by my bed. Aluminum stuff, not wood, and…” She stopped herself. She couldn’t ramble. She had to keep it together a little bit longer. 

“You got two good shots in on Wilkerson.” Perkins slid some photos in front of her of the dead man. “Nice tight grouping.”

“Double-tap, center-mass,” she mumbled as she looked away from what she had done. “It’s what they train you to do--it was all I could remember.”

Rani had killed someone and the words ‘shalt not kill’ rang through her head. But surely Hashem would understand? She didn’t kill Wilkerson for the sake of killing. 

Back in Connecticut where Rani grew up, her wise Rabbi had told their congregation once that the Torah allowed self-defense. That preservation of Jewish life was imperative. Philo of Alexandria had drawn a parallel between Roman law and Jewish law stating that killing was only justifiable in self-defense. Even though it required a cry for help first… or something. 

Rani had tried to run. She wanted to hide and not confront anyone. Rabbi Mendelssohn supported self-defense in cases of threats of life. Wilkerson had made it clear, he was going to kill her. At that point, it was him or her, and she would pick her every time.

_I actually went to a Jewish school up until high school. I enjoyed it, learned a lot. Often the Rabbi and I would meet up after Shabbos and he would answer all my random and sometimes silly questions. I was a kid, and I wanted to understand what was happening around me._

_After some particularly bad attacks on our community by some Anti-Semitic groups, I asked my Rabbi about self-defense. Rabbi told me about the history of our people and how our laws allowed for self-defense. But it didn’t change the fact that no matter how Hashem looks upon it, I still took someone’s life._

_I have to live with knowing I… I killed someone, no matter the circumstance._

_It was me or him._

After a couple of days, they finally let her go.

“You check out.” Another agent, Teller, handed over a small manila envelope which contained her things taken during booking. He’d been one of the nicer agents during her stay. “You’re not HYDRA, and everything you did during the incident was all self-defense.”

Apparently some of the cameras were still working up until the Triskelion literally fell and footage was recovered. The video evidence confirmed her story, along with the fact that there was nothing to find in her file. 

“Can I get my phone?” Rani asked as she pulled the Star of David out of the package. “Or my purse?”

“If they survived, they were taken into evidence along with everything else we could salvage,” he told her with a frown. “I can get you a form to put in a request for them to be returned,” then he added wryly, “you might get them back in a year.”

“Perfect.” She clasped the necklace. “I have no ID, no cards, and no cash. How am I supposed to get home?”

“I’ll have someone drop you off,” Teller offered as she stood. “And I’ll see what I can do about your purse and phone.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a sad but thankful smile. She just wanted to be out of there, back home with her familiar surroundings and away from the memories of what happened. 

“You want this?” Teller asked as she started to walk out of the room. He was gesturing to the other package, a plastic bag of her clothing that had been processed before being released back to her.  
She could see the grime and specks of dried blood even from where she stood. 

“No.” Rani shook her head and walked out of the door. 

_A random FBI agent took me home. She didn’t say much beyond getting directions. When I got to the apartment, I didn’t have a key to get in and Lonette wasn’t answering the buzz. I was going to try one of my other neighbors when the lady who lived across the elevator from me came out. She saw me, but it wasn’t until she recognized me that she startled a bit. I was too tired to really notice how she inched away like I was going to strike her or something._

_You know that saying ‘the battle is over but the war still rages on’?_

_I hate that saying._

Normally Rani only took the elevator if she was carrying stuff, like groceries. Staring up at the seven floors, she dragged herself into the cage elevator and smashed the buttons. The door opened away from her apartment so she had to walk around the internal terrace to get to her door.

It wasn’t until she was past Lonette’s door that she remembered again she didn’t have her keys. Lonette had her spare set, but if she was wasn’t home then Rani could try to find the building manager to let her in. 

There was an acetone smell wafting towards her, like nail polish remover. As Rani rounded the corner she could see why Lonette wasn’t answering her door. The woman was on her knees in front of Rani’s apartment, rag in hand and a bottle of paint stripper sitting on the floor next to her. Lonette was using the stuff to remove the spray paint that had ended up on Rani’s door.

It was a familiar image that now donned her door… familiar for all the wrong reasons.

“What?” Rani brought her hand to her mouth and tried to fight back tears.

A swastika. Someone had used yellow spray paint to draw a swastika on her door.

“Rani!” Lonette jumped up and rushed over, giving Rani a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Lonette kept talking, mentioning how she was so worried when she heard about the Triskelion falling. She couldn’t believe how many people died. Rani’s mother had called her, asking if she had seen her, which was strange because she didn’t even know Rani’s mom had her number. 

All Rani could do was stare at the half-image of the swastika. Memories came back to her of being a kid and having the symbol drawn on her local synagogue as some kind of not-so-veiled threat by one anti-Semitic group or another. 

“Pay that no mind, it was put there by a bunch of scared idiots.” Lonette assured her as she used her key to let Rani inside of the apartment. Rani had given her the spare a few years ago for emergencies. She never thought it would be this kind of emergency.

“Is that…” Rani could barely even look at the now closed door. “Is that what people think of me? That I’m HYDRA? That I’m some… Nazi?”

“This whole HYDRA-S.H.I.E.L.D. thing kinda came out of nowhere.” Lonette sat her down on the sofa. “It’s McCarthyism all over again, or the stuff with Japanese-Americans post-Pearl Harbor. People are scared and that makes them really do really stupid things.” 

On a rational level Rani understood, but it didn’t make her feel any better about the situation.

“Here.” Lonette put her phone in Rani’s hand. “You call you mom. I’ll fix you something to eat. You hungry?”

“Not really.” Rani frowned as she started down at the phone.

“Traumatic situations do that,” Lonette said as she moved over to the kitchenette. “But you have to eat. I’ll make something light.”

_I wasn’t willing to fight her, she was right after all._

_As for calling my mother, I wanted to do just that. But how could I tell her that I worked for HYDRA for years. That I probably even helped them by covering up their financials? Sure, I didn’t know it was them, but did that really matter? HYDRA nearly killed my great grandparents and my grandmother. They did kill my grand-uncle._

_HYDRA was a Nazi organization that willfully tried to exterminate the Jewish people. My people. And countless others. And I never noticed I was working for them._

_How do you explain that?_

Taking a deep breath, Rani dialed her mother. 

“Yes?” said her mother after picking up on the first ring.

“It’s me, Rani.” 

Her mother’s words came out fast. “Rani Adina Feldman, where the hell have you been? Some FBI agents call me, tell me you’re in custody, that you work for HYDRA? Does your great grandfather have a reason to turn over in his grave? I gave that FBI agent a piece of my mind for even suggesting you would be connected to HYDRA, after everything our family has been through.” 

“Mom…” Rani tried, but her mom continued over her. 

“And all this stuff on the news, Rani, you better have a good explanation for this. What were you thinking? Did you get arrested? Do I need to contact your Uncle Ira? Everyone we know is calling me, asking me if I knew my daughter was working for the Nazis. The things people are saying…” Rani loved her mother, she really did, but Beth Feldman could talk anyone’s ear off.

“Mom!” Rani said more forcefully. Yes, it was quite the mess Rani had found herself in, but her mom chewing her out wasn’t helping matters. “Will you calm down and let me explain?” 

“Okay.” Her mother took a breath. “Fine.” 

“I didn’t know.” 

“You didn’t know.” 

Rani didn’t know if that was a statement or a question, and just ended up babbling on. “That’s what I spent the last 24 hours telling FBI agents while they were asking me these blote* questions. The whole thing was nothing but tsuris*.” Rani started to get flustered. “And what’s more, I just got back to my apartment and found a swastika on my door. A swastika!” She gave herself a second to stop thinking about it. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t call. I kept having to ask them to call you.” 

Rani was practically crying at this point. Lonette passed her a glass of water and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Do I need to contact your Uncle Ira?” Her mother asked seriously but gently.

“They’re not pressing charges for… Mom, I… I…” Rani stopped herself. “I’m okay… I think.” 

“Oh mamaleh*,” her mother said softly. “Do you want me to come down there? It’s only a train ride. I can be there tomorrow.” 

“No, it’s okay. I think I just need to… to sleep.” If she could even sleep at this point. The only reason she got any rest at the FBI was due to her sheer exhaustion.

Rani sipped the cool water and it felt like relief as it flowed down. There was a ding of the microwave and Lonette got back up to finish whatever she was making.

“Well alright.” Her mother sounded as if she had already packed her bag. “But you’re calling and checking in with me every day.” 

“They still have my cell phone.” Rani nearly groaned. That was going to be a headache.

Her mother wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Call me from a land line then. Get a new phone, Skype me. I don’t care Rani, check in every day, or I will be on the next train. Do you hear me?” 

“Yes Mom, every day.” 

“Good.” Her mother seemed somewhat satisfied. “Now get some sleep and call me tomorrow. Do you need money?” 

“I have money.” Rani had some emergency cash stashed, and her checkbook. She’d have to work on getting her debit and credit cards replaced. 

“Good. I love you, Rani.” 

“Love you too, Mom.” 

_After Lonette left me, I didn’t cry, though maybe I should have. I was numb. I laid awake in my bed for hours. I saw the sun set and rise through my window. I thought about how everything had turned upside down and what I was going to do next._

_I considered going home, but if everyone was harassing my mom with phone calls about me, home was probably not the best place to be. I needed something though, a sense of community, family…something. I thought about maybe going to_ shul _for services, even though I hadn’t gone in about a month because I was so overworked._

_Overworked because I gave my job my all… my job… working for HYDRA… working for Nazis…_

_Sometime around seven am I curled onto my side and bawled until I physically couldn’t anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Blote: Bullshit  
> 2\. Tsuris: Headache  
> 3\. Mamaleh: Mom’s little one or child


	3. The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!
> 
> I do want to comment that one of the writers is Jewish.  
> This story touches on some very difficult subject matters.  
> We will show the good and bad that can come from moments such as these.  
> Again, it will get worse before it gets better.

_Word of advice, make sure you have some form of widely accepted photo ID available at all times. Don’t do what I did and leave you passport at work, in your desk, because you figure you’ll need it in a month when you have to go audit one of the satellite bases again. Of course, this is the same desk that you put your purse in which has your driver’s license, even though you don’t own a car. And it’s that same desk that’s in what’s left of S.H.I.E.L.D.…well if the desk even still exists…_

_Not having your bank cards and ID are a pain, but the worst part is explaining why you don’t have them anymore._

“Yes, I’d like to cancel the card.” Rani had borrowed Lonette’s phone again so she could contact the credit card company.

“Of course, Miss Feldman,” the lady on the other side of the phone said. “I’m going to need you to confirm your account details.” A few minutes later and Rani answered all the questions to the lady’s satisfaction. “Now, did you lose the card or was it stolen?”

“Uh.” Rani did not really prepare for this question. “Neither? I know where it is, but I can’t get to it and I don’t know when I’ll get it back.”

“Did you leave it somewhere on vacation?” The woman offered, apparently that was a common happenstance. 

“Actually, it’s in FBI evidence storage,” Rani admitted before she had a moment to think her words through. 

“FBI evidence storage?” The woman clearly thought she heard her wrong.

“Yeah, I, ah,” she stumbled and thought about making something up. “I used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and now I don’t.”

There was a really long pause. “Oh.”

This was going to be a really long phone conversation…

_You think credit card companies and banks are hard to deal with? Nothing is worse than the industrial machine that is the DMV. All I wanted to do was get a new driver’s license… without the old license, or my passport, or anything really. I had my birth certificate, but in this day and age, it’s just not enough. Especially when the lady behind the counter might have a grudge against ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents._

_Honestly, how do people get fake IDs so easily in the movies when I couldn’t even get a real one?_

Rani was at the local DMV for the second day in a row. She had to get there early if she had any hope of making it through the line. It wasn’t that big of a deal, she hadn’t really been sleeping anyway. But she could do without the heat stroke.

Either the air conditioner in the building was broken or it hadn’t been on long enough. Wedged between two people, Rani sat and waited for her number to be called. She thought she was going to die of heat exhaustion. What an abysmal way to go after surviving… everything.

There was a water cooler but it was missing the complimentary paper cups. She was going to have to use some of her change to get a bottle of water from the vending machine. Rani thankfully had a little cash stored as ‘rainy day’ money, but the dollar doesn’t stretch far in D.C. Still, two-fifty was worth not passing out.

Picking her way through the aisles of people, Rani made her way over to the generic looking soda machine. When she got about ten feet from it, she started to feel sick. Not from the heat, this was something else. Her abdomen got cold and the back of her throat tickled a little like she was going to throw up. 

Adjusting course, Rani headed to the bathroom instead. It was a gender-neutral single occupancy, almost like a real house bathroom the way it was decorated. She lifted the toilet seat and braced her hands against the tank. A few dry heaves later and she only succeeded in making her rib cage hurt a bit. She stayed leaning over the bowl and the nauseous feeling started to pass. 

Someone banged on the door and Rani called out, “Just a sec!”

Flushing the toilet out of habit, she moved to the sink and washed her hands. Wetting a paper towel, she dabbed her face. She wondered if she was coming down with something. She could have caught a bug from one of those people sitting out in the waiting room. Stress compromises the immune system, and she’d been under a lot of stress.

Walking out of the bathroom, she made a mental note to stop by the pharmacy and pick up some over the counter stuff. Her health plan had been through S.H.I.E.L.D. and now that was all gone. Until she sorted it out, she simply couldn’t afford to get sick.

That in mind, Rani found a patch of the wall away from everyone else and planned on staying there until her number was called. Glancing over at the vending machine, her stomach started to feel wonky again. Rani decided she wasn’t that thirsty after all.

_Eventually they did sort out my card and license, but they made sure I went through every hoop they could think of. S.H.I.E.L.D. had touched a lot of people’s lives. Its fall left a lasting impression._

_Speaking of impressions. You know when a dream isn’t a dream at all, but a memory playing itself on a loop. Like some bad horror movie that you can’t stop watching? There has to be a word for that, I feel there should be one._

Rani is standing at the vending machine in the break room at the Garden. 

Shots rang out so loudly that the gun might as well gone off next to her ear.

Instead of ducking, this time she turns around.

Wilkerson is pointing a gun at her.

He pulls the trigger.

Rani jolted awake, it’s a familiar scene. Four hours of uninterrupted sleep, that’s something, the last few nights it’s only been two. 

Dragging herself into the living room, she glanced down at the notepad sitting on the coffee table. It listed all the things she needed to get taken care of. Thankfully her bills were auto-drafted so those were a few less to worry about.

The list of her outgoing finances were on another sheet of paper, along with her savings report.   
Rani could have let S.H.I.E.L.D. run her 401k and Investment Savings Portfolio, but she was an accountant. The S.H.I.E.L.D. plans were too generic and while that works for some, she took a more personal approach to the situation and had her own investment accounts. Thankfully this meant that she didn’t lose anything on that front. But it was hardly enough money to retire on. 

That was another sheet of paper, a detailed analysis of how long she could go before needing to break into the savings, then before she needed to find a new source of income.

Not wanting to deal with her finances, or reality in general, she flopped down on the sofa and turned on the TV. This early in the morning, it was mostly news shows, which were pretty much S.H.I.E.L.D. related news 24/7. The channel she started on was showing the news footage of Black Widow basically daring authorities to arrest her. The reporters started to argue if they really did need the Avengers and if people like Black Widow should be given a pass just because she’s ‘a good guy’ now. 

Rani was about to change the channel when they started to talk about the fact that apparently agencies like the FBI, CIA, and NSA were picking up agents. One lady asked if this really was a smart idea. These are the same agents who let HYDRA fester right under their noses. Did the American public really want these kinds of people protecting them?

Flipping the channel a few times, Rani landed on a repeat of _Burn Notice_ of all things. The scene was Michael Weston being told he was one of the best in the business. That’s why he was burned. Someone wanted him alone and desperate enough to come work for them. Michael was having none of it. 

If Michael was in S.H.I.E.L.D. he would have totally figured out he was working for HYDRA.

Turning off the TV, Rani curled into the corner of the sofa and propped her head on a throw pillow. Her only consolidation was that the likes of Captain America, Agents Hill and 13, and Black Widow hadn’t seen the HYDRA threat until it literally reared its ugly head. 

This only made Rani feel marginally better. Marginally.

_It was near a week before I could work myself up into going to the Synagogue. Killing in self-defense may be accepted by people’s teachings, but that didn’t mean I had to accept it personally. And how could I face the people there after working for a Nazi organization? I mean, the Rabbi at the local Temple seemed like a nice lady, someone I could confide in, but saying ‘I didn’t know’ was a crap answer._

_But it’s the only one I had._

Heading down the street, Rain stopped in front of her synagogue. It was a modern building, well, modern by D.C. standards anyway. She walked inside and headed into the main hall, sitting down in the back. Grabbing a prayer book, she read over the Hebrew as she waited for the Rabbi. As she turned the page, she wondered if there was a prayer for when you took someone’s life. Perhaps she could do a prayer for the dead? 

_Do Nazis even deserve a prayer?_

_They may be horrible human beings… but he was still human._

After a bit, Rani noticed that people were staring at her with sideway glances and pinched brows. She had mentioned before that she was a Forensic Accountant, but had she said she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Yes, of course, to Mrs. Bloomberg, the one who ran the social events for the synagogue. 

There were no services that night, just people gathering for a group meeting. It was an often enough occurrence. Rani would see different groups on the few days she could manage to come over. Sometimes, if the issues plucked her fancy, she would join in, try to be sociable. Not having any idea what the meeting was about that night, she just stared at the prayer book, flipping pages. 

A woman walked by in a _kippa_ and Rani jumped up. “Rebbe.” The woman turned towards her and Rani asked, “I was wondering if I might speak with you a minute?” 

The look that the Rabbi gave Rani was an odd one that Rani couldn’t place. Rani was starting to feel nervous but the Rabbi said, “Oh… of course, come up with me.” 

Rani followed the Rabbi up to the Torah stand where the Rabbi sat down. Rani went to sit, but the Rabbi shook her head. Okay, she would remain standing. 

“How…” Rani looked up at the Torah. “How does one wrestle with concept of taking a life?” 

“Well G-d is generally against such practices,” began the Rabbi. “In fact, G-d does not look kindly upon those who seek to do us harm.” 

“Of course.” Rani nodded. “He protects us.”

He protected me. How else did I survive?

“Some of us.” The Rabbi started to fidget. “Uh, look, Ms. Felman…” 

“Feldman,” Rani corrected. 

“Feldman.” The woman’s tone turned terse. “I’m not really sure what you’re doing here.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Rani. 

“Well, we don’t usually like your… people here.” She cleared her throat and sat a little more straight. “I should have seen it though. Always kept to the back, minimal community involvement, and you refused to help Mrs. Bloomberg with her taxes.”

_Of course I refused to help. Firstly, you help one person with their taxes and that’s it, you’re done. You’ll have everyone from your cousins to the brother-in-law’s cousin of your neighbor three floors down after you. I help my parents, that’s it. Okay, occasionally I help Lonette but she pinky-swore to secrecy on that one._

_As for the other woman, she is such a nosy Nora if I ever saw one. She’s a kind lady, to be sure, but I can totally see through her ‘can you help me with my taxes? My son will be there’ shtick. I’ve met him, and he seems like a good guy, but we had nothing in common. And even if we did, it’s not like I have time, had time, for dating with how busy my job was._

_Besides, once people realize that I’m just an accountant for S.H.I.E.L.D., not an actual operative, the mystique of working for a spy organization wears off quickly._

The fact that the Rabbi would bring it up confused Rani. “What does that have to do with it?”

“Ms. Feldman, look.” The Rabbit stood and put some distance between them. “I don’t think I can help you. G-d does not reward those who sin. Of course, I do not know what you and your Nazi friends were planning.”

“Nazis?” The word came out fast, loud, and surprised. “I’m not a Nazi, I’m J—” 

“Of course, of course,” the woman cut her off. “Whatever it was you were trained to say by HYDRA.” 

“How dare you!” Rani was incensed that the woman, whom she came to for help and support, so bluntly accused her of being a Nazi without so much as a second thought. “I am not—I didn’t—”

“Ms. Feldman.” The Rabbi continued to back away. “If that’s even your name, we do not welcome your kind here. Please leave before I am forced to call the police.” 

“But—” Rani wanted to explain and she was a mix of frustration, anger, and despair. “I…” 

“We do not welcome killers and Nazis into our midst.” The Rabbi moved away from the Torah stand. The group from before had doubled in size and had moved forward, all gazing at her with either caution or suspicion. 

_I was afraid._

_They were afraid._

Rani backed away and made quickly for the exit as fast as she could without breaking into a dead run. Once she made it outside, she broke into tears.

_A Rabbi had accused me of being a Nazi. The Rabbi shall remain nameless because, despite what I think of her. Because, unfortunately, I could kinda see where she was coming from. I don’t really do crowds, classic introvert, so I usually kept to myself. But now, when I needed spiritual guidance, someone to help me understand what the purpose of all of this was…_

_Was there even a purpose?_

_I kept replaying her words over and over in my head. I wasn’t a Nazi. I’ve never been a Nazi. I can’t be a Nazi. So why do I feel so guilty?_

Rani walked the few short blocks back to her apartment from the Metro. She thought she’d feel better after seeing the Rabbi. Now she felt worse. Did G-d help her to survive the Fall only to have abandoned her?

“Miss Feldman.” She heard her name called and she looked up to see a man standing at the door to her building.

“Agent Teller.” Rani recognized the man who had sat in on some of her interrogations.

“I was just trying to buzz you.” He smiled and gestured to the door buzzer system.

“Everything okay?” Having an FBI agent show up at your door is not usually a good thing.

“I pulled a few strings.” He lifted his hand and Rani saw the brown bag he was carrying. Situational awareness is not one of Rani’s strong suits apparently. “Got your stuff released from evidence.”

Rani’s eyes went a little wide and she tried not to eagerly take the package from him. “Oh, thank you.”

“Check and make sure everything is there.” He gave a bit of a laugh, pleased to see her reaction.

Tearing the evidence seal, she opened the brown bag and took out her purse. Inside was everything as she had left it, though it was obvious it had been rifled through. She didn’t care, she was so glad to have her keys and phone back. Even if the phone battery was dead.

“Need you to sign this.” Teller produced a piece of paper and a pen. 

Glancing over it, it was a typical release form saying that she had received her stuff and FBI has no liability, etc. Rani put it up against the glass of the door and signed it. 

“Thank you, so much,” she told Teller as she handed him the form and pen. “I know you didn’t have to bring it to me.”

“Thought I’d do my good deed for the day.” He smiled again and he seemed like a much different person than the one she met before. But then she was no longer a suspected HYDRA agent and he wasn’t trying to interrogate her.

“May karma reward you,” she replied with a full smile. The first time she’d done so since the incident.

“That’s my plan.” He chuckled but then cleared his throat. “Well, I better get this back.” He gestured with the form. “Because this isn’t exactly S.O.P.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She tucked the purse under her arm.

“Well, seeya later,” he spoke as he was about to walk past but then stopped, realizing what he said. His face scrunched up a bit.

“It’s automatic.” She laughed and it felt good. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.” He smiled and winked before setting off again.

“Agent Teller,” she called to him. He turned around to face her. “I heard, on the news, that the FBI are picking up agents, is that true?” She felt a little odd asking him about it.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his face going a little more cautious at the question.

“So that means the FBI is hiring?” Now she just felt odd and awkward.

“The FBI is technically always hiring,” Teller stepped forward and lowered his voice a little. “But this whole thing with S.H.I.E.L.D., the flood of personnel on the market, they’re being very selective in who they’re taking in.”

Rani knew what that meant. “They’re only taking Operations Agents. The spies, hitters, and hackers.”

_Everyone wants a Black Widow or a Michael Weston._

“Pretty much.” He frowned. “I’ve seen your work history, you’re a really good Forensic Accountant.”

“And the FBI has hundreds of those.” Rani shook her head. She could admit it: training to be an accountant isn’t nearly as challenging and discriminating as training to infiltrate an enemy compound with nothing but tweezers and a stick of gum. 

“Sorry,” he said with a helpless shrug. “You’ll find work though. This is DC, there’s always need for a good accountant, forensic or not.”

“Thanks.” Rani offered him a small smile. He was trying to make her feel better.

All the way up to her apartment, Rani mentally came to grips with the concept of job hunting. She hadn’t really actively looked for a job since her summer stint at the local movie theater while in high school. She did intern work while in college and went straight into S.H.I.E.L.D. from there. 

She was going to have make a resume and everything. 

Clutching her bag to her chest, at least she had her ID and phone. Her life was starting to get back to normal and that was important.

_While I was out, someone painted another swastika on my door. ___


	4. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!

_I am a grown woman. Writing a resume should not be that hard._

Rani did some online research and found a zillion templates. She also found guides on where and how to apply for jobs in the current market place, along with hundreds of websites doing the same thing. This would be the first time she ever had to go looking for a job since high school. 

_I’d always planned on joining S.H.I.E.L.D. after college. When the recruiter came through I was probably the most extroverted I’d ever been. I was asking dozens of questions, though apparently not the right ones._

In her final semester of college, Rani was accepted into S.H.I.E.L.D. She was so happy. Of course she’d have to go through a training course to learn basic skills, how to fire a gun, that kind of thing. She’d also have to move to wherever they stationed her. But she was going to be a bonefide Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

An accountant, but an agent.

_I still have my badge actually. It was in my purse. I haven’t figured out what to do with it._

Lonette suggested trying a job placement or temp agency. At first Rani was confused because she wasn’t looking for random office work. Her friend explained that certain temp agencies actually focused on headhunting those with specialized skillsets, like engineering and accounting. That way a large company who just wants someone who can do the job, or a small one who has no time to go through the hassle, can call them up and have someone the next day.

There was also a website specifically for posting non-entry level jobs. Rani found several open positions for Accountants, Forensic or otherwise. She decided she would try there first. After sending off emails and making replies to the posts, she sat back and waited for the returns. 

It took a few days, but after the twenty something resumes she sent out, she managed to get five requests for interviews. 

She had two interviews on the Wednesday, one in the morning, and one in the afternoon. Taking the time to straighten her hair, Rani put on her best pinstripe skirt and blouse. She made herself look the model of professionalism. With any luck, she might not even have to go to the other three interviews she scheduled for the following day. 

The first interview was at a very large law firm who needed a staff accountant. It was very similar to her work as a Forensic Accountant. She’d be going through finances for both in house clients and for court proceedings. People like to hide money and Rani was really good at finding it. It was more about patterns than it was about numbers. There was something organic about it.

Rani arrived a little early, not too early, but at a respectable time. Apparently they had set up several interviews that day. She was sent into the break room to wait her turn. They didn’t want the applicants clogging up the waiting room. 

As she sat there next to the vending machine, she started to get a little nauseous, stomach churning a bit. She didn’t think she’d be this nervous but then she’d not been in an interview in a long time. Her hands shook a little and she clasped her fingers together. Taking a deep breath, she couldn’t shake the nerves.

“Ms. Feldman?” a woman called from the door.

“Yes,” Rani said as she stood, trying not to jump up as she did so.

“This way.” The lady gestured and Rani followed her out of the breakroom. As she walked down a hallway with glass lined walls, she began to feel a lot better, calmer. She was a professional, she could do this.

“Ms. Feldman,” a man offered his hand as she entered one of the smaller conference rooms, “I’m Cecil Edwards.”

“Mr. Edwards,” she replied politely and shook his hand. 

There was also another woman in the room who also offered her hand. “Abigail Mathers,” 

“Ms. Mathers.” Rani shook her hand. 

“Abbie, please,” she smiled and gestured for Rani to take a seat at a smaller round table, “and he’s Ed.”

“Abbie, Ed.” Rani returned the smile and took the offered chair. “Thank you both for seeing me today.”

“You have an impressive resume, Rani,” Ed said as he sat down, pronouncing it as Rainy.

“It’s Rah-nee,” she corrected him out of habit. Her words weren’t forceful or mean, but interrupting someone you’re trying to impress may not always be the smartest move.

“Oh, apologies.” Ed smiled at her and he seemed to take it well. He worked with lawyers, perhaps he was used to much worse? 

“It’s a common mistake,” she assured him.

“Now,” Ed pulled out her resume from a file laid on the table, “as I remember, you were top of your class at Georgetown. Several years of experience in Forensic Accounting.”

“We’re looking for a Forensic Accountant in particular,” Abbie added as Ed reread over her resume. “We do a lot of corporate cases which can involve… well… creative accounting practices on behalf of the corporations.”

“Yes,” Rani nodded with a knowing smile, “the shell game of holding companies and sub-leasers. There is always a path that connects them. It’s just a matter of finding it.”

Abbie smiled at her, but then Ed made a bit of a ‘huh’ sound before saying, “Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. That’s S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.” Rani got a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. Had they not noticed this when they read over her resume? 

“I’m sorry, Miss Feldman,” he was back to being proper, “but all our employees have to pass a strict background check. I’m afraid we won’t be able to hire you.”

“My background is spotless, Mr. Edwards,” Rani tried not to sound too forceful. 

“You worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Abbie was suddenly less friendly, “it’s all over the news. It was infested with HYDRA, basically Nazis.”

“Yes,” Rani wasn’t going to deny the truth, “but I was not one of them. I was interviewed by the FBI. They cleared me which is why I’m not sitting in a cell.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Ed shuffled away the papers. “We’re a law firm. We can’t give anyone any reason to put our work in question. You understand, yes?” 

_Yeah, unfortunately I did._

_I wanted to be angry at them for being overly cautious, but I’ve seen lawyers tear people down on witness stands. Even now, S.H.I.E.L.D. still equals HYDRA in most people’s minds. Wouldn’t be hard for some lawyer to discredit me. All they’d have to do is ask me how I didn’t see it, how I didn’t know…_

_Not like I had a better answer than ‘I just didn’t see it’._

_I kept out hope though. The other interviews were for corporations, but in a non-legal capacity. It seems they had done the same thing. They saw my degree and years of service, but blanked on the name. No one was calling S.H.I.E.L.D. by its full name on the news, it didn’t even click for one guy until the interview was nearly over._

“You worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” said the lady at the third job placement agency Rani had tried.

“Yes, but I was cleared by the FBI,” Rani told her, the words almost mechanical now. “I had no part of HYDRA.”

The lady, Emily, frowned at her but there was sympathy in it. “I know that not all of S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA. My cousin worked maintenance at the Triskelion. He died, fighting against HYDRA.”

“I’m sorry,” Rani said quietly. This was the first time she had come across someone who had lost a loved one in the fall. Well, someone who actually admitted it. 

_She was the first one to not give me that look. You know, the one asking why I got to be the one to survive… why did I get to live?_

“So am I,” Emily let out a sad sigh, but then composed herself. “The problem is, no one wants to hire any ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. They think they can’t be trusted, or they’re, well, frankly, stupid for not seeing it.”

_I appreciated her honesty, but damn did it hurt._

“I understand.” Rani also sighed. 

“I’m not going to turn you away,” Emily told her and it nearly surprised Rani. “I’m keeping a look out for pro-S.H.I.E.L.D. companies, and not because they are also pro-HYDRA. If I find something, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.” Rani was more emotional at hearing those words than she realized she would be. Someone was finally believing in her. Trusting her. 

_It’s amazing how far a little faith goes._

Ten weeks later and Rani was really starting to feel the wear and tear of being jobless. She started to cancel subscription services that she had. She still needed internet but got rid of any add-on packages for her cable. No more eating out. She did enjoy cooking, but she was more frugal with her grocery shopping, no more extra special items and comfort foods. 

She was just about to call the bank to see about cancelling her safety deposit box when Emily contacted her. There was a moderate sized construction company in need of a regular accountant. Starting pay was definitely doable and they had no issues with her being ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. All Rani had to do was pass the interview.

Her spirits up again, Rani made sure to arrive promptly and be polite and personable to everyone. They didn’t really have their own HR Department so she was interviewed by one of the managers, a man named Jake who would be her boss. 

“I was cleared by the FBI,” Rani felt the need to say, to make sure that the man was okay with her situation. 

“I’ve hired ex-felons who have actually done bad things, Miss Feldman,” Jake told her as the interview wrapped up and he stood from his chair. “Sometimes people just get caught up in a bad situation and need someone to give them a second chance.”

“I really appreciate that,” Rani said as she also stood then shook his hand. “I promise you won’t regret hiring me, I’m a really good accountant.”

“I’d imagine you would be,” he chuckled lightly, “what with a name like Feldman.”

Rani paused at that, tilting her head slightly and asking, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well you’re Jewish, aren’t you?” Jake seemed confused as to why she didn’t get it. “Jews know how to handle money, and they know better than to screw over the people paying their bills.”

_There are points in your life where you have to choose between your physical health and your emotional health._

“I should have just taken the job,” Rani was sitting on her sofa, head hung in her hands.

“You did the right thing,” Lonette told her as she sat down a bottle wine and two glasses on the coffee table. “You’ve been through hell, Rani, you don’t deserve an anti-semitic doucheboat for a boss.”

“Yeah, but,” Rani didn’t regret the decision, just the consequences of it, “Emily worked hard to find me a job in the first place. And I’m going to have to start into my savings soon if I don’t get an income. I should have just put up with it until I found another job.”

“No,” Lonette pointed her finger at her, “don’t ever just put up with it. That makes them think it’s okay, and it’s not okay. It will _never_ be okay.”

_Sometimes the truth can just hit you like a brick._

“You’re right, I shouldn’t put myself through that.” Rani gave her what she had left of a smile. “Thank you for coming over, you’re the best.”

“I know I am.” Lonette gave Rani a friendly bump on her shoulder with her own. “And you’ll be fine. I know you will.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Rani replied drolly, but she was starting to feel better. She knew she had made the right choice.

“Doesn’t everyone.” Lonette winked and went to open the bottle of wine. “This was to celebrate you getting a new job, but I think we should just get plastered instead.”

Rani let out an involuntary bark of laughter. “That’s very tempting…”

Lonette chuckled and started to pour the wine. “What’s that?” she said as she gestured to a metal lockbox that was laying farther down the coffee table. It wasn’t that big, just large enough to hold a paperback book.

“Oh, I don’t think I ever showed you this,” Rani said as she grabbed it and pulled it forward. There was a little hiss-pop as she carefully opened the water-tight box. Inside was a plastic baggy with an old, brown book inside it. 

“I need gloves.” Rani realized and quickly went to her room to grab a pair of white gloves. 

“U.S. Army field notes?” Lonette read the title of the book through the plastic when Rani came back into the room. “Looks really old.”

“It is old,” Rani told her, putting on the gloves. “I try not to take it out of the box, but,” Rani let out a long breath, “I kinda needed it today, plus I cancelled my safety deposit box.”

Lonette gave her a curious look, but said nothing as Rani pulled the book gently out of the bag. “It’s from World War II,” she explained as she laid the plastic out on the coffee table, away from the wine glasses, and placed the book on top of it. “My grandmother gave it to me when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Sketches?” Lonette said as Rani flipped through the first couple of pages. “They’re not bad.”

The pencil sketches were of random things, a group of trees, a bunch of faceless people in a dining hall, a dog, that kind of thing. Only the first few pages had pictures, then there was a bunch of blank pages. In the middle of the book, where it laid out flat the best, both sides of the book was sketched into one large picture.

“Why do they look familiar?” Lonette asked, staring at the image of a group of soldiers hanging out around a table in a farm house. 

“It’s the Howling Commandos.” Rani smiled as she took in every detail of the image though she had it memorized in her heart. “This was sketched by Steve Rogers himself.”

“No way!” Lonette was both in awe and amazed. “How did…? What?”

“My grandmother was just a child in World War II, she lived in Ukraine,” Rani explained, not taking her eyes off the image. “HYDRA came into the small village in the Carpathian Mountains where she lived. They completely took over, imprisoning and killing people, doing experiments. My grandmother lost her brother that way. Other family members from surrounding towns were also killed by the Nazis.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Lonette said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“They would have wiped out the whole village if not for Captain America and his Howling Commandos.” A small smile came to Rani’s lips. HYDRA may have torn apart her life, but they couldn’t take this away from her. “They leveled the HYDRA base, freed everyone, including my great grandfather. He was the chief Rabbi, so he insisted on putting up the group, making sure they were well fed and rested before they moved onto the next mission.”

“Is that your great grandfather?” Lonette asked, pointing to a figure who Rani admitted she did bear a striking resemblance to. He was sitting at the end of the table, a young girl in his lap who was playing with a Bowler hat. 

“Yes,” Rani was smiling broadly now, “and that’s my grandmother. She’s playing with Dum Dum Dugan’s hat. She pinched it straight off his head, well, according to her. That’s Dugan there, and that’s Gabe Jones, Montgomery Falsworth, Jim Morita, and Jacques Dernier.” They were all sitting around the table, laughing and eating.

“Who’s this one,” Lonette pointed to a figure at the end of the table, “the one looking at the camera, ugh… you know what I mean.”

Rani laughed, it was true, there was only one person looking ‘at the camera’ as it were. “Bucky Barnes, this wasn’t long before he died.”

“Shame, he’s kinda cute,” Lonette said to keep the conversation from going melancholy again. “Too bad Captain America isn’t in the drawing, but I guess that’s cause he’s drawing it.”

“Yeah,” Rani nodded, still smiling at the image. “My grandmother said she asked Rogers if she could keep the sketch. He didn’t want to rip it so he gave her the whole thing. She kept it safe, even when she spent months traveling across Europe and then the Atlantic to immigrate to the States.”

“It’s in really good condition,” Lonette said appreciatively. 

“Growing up, she would tell me the story of Captain America and his exploits.” Rani was flooded with memories, good memories. “That’s how I first learned about Peggy Carter, she was an amazing hero. I wanted to be just like her, until I realized I wasn’t cut out to be a spy.”

“Most people aren’t,” Lonette told her, giving her another nudge. “But you’re more awesome than a spy. You can actually do math. That’s talent.”

Rani couldn’t help but laugh at the dead seriousness in Lonette’s voice. The woman ended up breaking down laughing too. It felt good. For a moment in time, Rani didn’t have to carry all her burdens. They would soon find her again though, they always did.

“I better put it back.” Rani carefully closed the book and slipped it into the plastic bag.

“I bet that’s worth a hell of a lot of money,” Lonette said, chewing on her lip slightly. “I know it’s got a lot of sentimental value, but if you sold it, you could probably retire.”

“Crossed my mind,” Rani admitted as she put it back into the lockbox and sealed it up. “I’ve had it in a safety deposit box for years to keep it safe. Granny gave it to me when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. because I was following in her heroes’ footsteps. But it turns out I was working for the people who were responsible for her brother’s death. Sentimental doesn’t even cover half of what I’m feeling right now.”

_I couldn’t even tell you all the emotions I was feeling. Most of them I just refused to feel because it would hurt too much. That book was the last thing I had from my grandmother and it meant more to me than anything in the entire world._

_I’ve never been one for hunting animals, but I learned somewhere you don’t try to kill them on the spot. Getting in a shot like that is near impossible. So you mortally wound them, make them bleed out and just follow the trail._

_HYDRA may not have killed me, but it did feel like they had wounded me to the point that I wasn’t going to make it. And since I don’t have Captain America or the Howling Commandos coming to save me, I was going to have to figure out this rescue stuff for myself._


	5. The Smell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

_The smell… oh my god… the smell… it gets everywhere. How is that even possible?_

A few days later Lonette came to Rani with a job offer. Her brother owned several franchises around the city. He was looking for an assistant manager for one of his bistro/coffee houses. Normally he’d let it get taken care of in-house, but Lonette talked him into offering the job to Rani despite the fact she had almost no experience. 

“I appreciate it,” Rani told her, “but I haven’t worked in the service industry since high school, let alone as a manager.”

“Assistant Manager,” Lonette assured her. “You’ll be responsible for inventory, that kind of thing. You’ll learn fast.”

“I don’t want to disappoint him.” Or annoy all the staff by coming in as an outsider. Rani already had enough troubles as it was.

“They couldn’t hire from within so they were going to have to find someone anyway,” the woman told her. “This isn’t a permanent thing, just something to keep you going.”

Eventually Rani gave in. She really was appreciative of what her friend did for her. “I owe you a lot, Lonette. You’ve been a great help through all this.”

“You can cook me some of those peach flavored Rugelach. They are so unbelievably tasty.” Lonette grinned at her. Rugelach were rolled up little pastries that could be cinnamon flavored, or stuffed with jam and other goodies, baked into flaky, magical goodness. They had been her grandmother’s specialty. 

“Deal.”

Lonette was right, partly. Rani did pick up the inventory work quickly. Paperwork was a breeze compared to what she had to handle at S.H.I.E.L.D. Rani wasn’t much of a people person though, customer service was not her forte. 

Thankfully the manager, Barry, was a really nice guy who took pity on Rani. She rarely had to work the counter which meant most of her time was spent doing paperwork or helping out on the line. Occasionally she would have to deal with an irate customer when she was the only one there in charge. 

_The first time it was a bit upsetting and I got a little anxious. But by the time it was over I realized something…_

_I survived the fall of the Triskelion; I have blood on my hands; I’m a Jew who keeps getting accused of being a Nazi. I’m trying really hard not to turn into a cynic, but I honestly don’t care that you’re mad because we’re out of carrot cake brownies…_

A month passed and Rani found herself at least feeling like she leveled off. She wasn’t making as much money as she had before, but it was enough to keep her apartment and get by. All the free coffee and tea she could stomach too. 

_But that coffee smell, it’s as bad as popcorn and cigarettes. Doesn’t matter how much you wash your clothes… it just doesn’t go away! I can still smell it._

“Hey, Miss Feldman.” One of the employees, a nineteen year old kid by the name of Topher, walked into the storage room as Rani was taking inventory. “I’m covering Luke’s shift. He can’t make it for reasons I didn’t bother asking.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” Rani hit save on the spreadsheet she had open on her laptop. She was at least proud to be able to say she reduced paper waste in the bistro by moving most things to digital. “I’ve already counted down register two. You can use it when it gets busy for lunch.”

“Kay,” Topher replied and she thought he left. Instead she heard him shuffle a little closer. “Miss Feldman?”

She glanced up at him warily. “Yes, Topher?”

“Is it true…?” Topher almost looked a little afraid of whatever he was about to say. “You used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Rani was taken aback by the question. Barry knew her work history but didn’t hold it against her. They had decided it was just better to keep it between them. No point in possibly upsetting the staff or customers who were still reeling from what happened. 

Not knowing how Topher had found out, nor why he was asking, all Rani could do was utter, “I’m not HYDRA.”

“So, it is true?” His eyes widened a little. She thought he was about to rabbit, but then he got a slightly awed look on his face. “Were you in the Triskelion when it all went down? Did you ever meet Captain America? Or Black Widow? Or Thor?”

“Woah, hold on,” Rani stopped him as he seemed to have a thousand questions. “First, tell me, how did you know I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“It’s posted, online,” he told her as if he expected her to already know. 

“Online? Where?” Rani went back to her laptop, waking it up.

“There’s this website…” he trailed off as Rani turned the laptop towards him after opening the browser. It only took him a moment for him to bring up the site in question. “You just type in a name and it brings up all the entries with said name.”

According to the front page, IsHeHYDRA.com had taken all the information dumped from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s servers and turned it into an easily searchable database. 

_Want to know if your neighbor is HYDRA? Just type in their name and find out!_

_It made me so sick to my stomach… but at the same time, I had to know what it said._

Rani typed in her name and after only a few moments the search results came back. Since only the mission records had been dumped onto the internet, there was thankfully no personnel records to worry about being out there for everyone to see. That would be an even worse catastrophe as it would reveal her social security number, address, etc. 

Instead, all that came up was were the missions files where she was responsible for the accounting. Sometimes she was only entered as an agent reference number AC1012. The reference list was also leaked so her name was paired with that number. 

There were so many cases… she could hardly believe she worked on them all.

“See,” Topher pointed to the top right of the screen, “everyone gets a rating.”

Sure enough, there was a text that wrote out ‘Are they HYDRA?’ and next to it was a status bar. 

_I was insanely relieved to be rated ‘Low’ in the likelihood of being HYDRA. I mean, I_ know _I’m not HYDRA but it was nice to see that at least the computer algorithm that came up with this stuff knew it too. Yeah, I know, it’s kind of a sad thing to be happy about._

“These are some really awesome missions.” Topher was pointing at the big name missions that showed up at the top of the search.

“I was just the accountant on those,” Rani told him, clicking into the first link which was the mission data from the Thor incident in New Mexico. “There was so much property damage and compensation that had to be paid out. I was put on a team and I did it all from DC. I’ve never even been to New Mexico.”

“Oh.” He got a disappointed look on his face, the one she was familiar with. 

“I’m not some flashy spy,” she reiterated. “I’ve never met an Avenger in person. I’m an accountant. And I’m _not_ HYDRA.”

Topher frowned at her. “That’s kinda lame.”

“Lame?” Rani nearly squeaked.

“We all thought you were some kind of bad ass.” Topher shrugged. “But you’re not a real S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. At least if you were HYDRA then you’d have that whole double agent thing going for you.”

Rani stared at the young man for a good full minute, resisting the urge to grab and shake him. “I want you to listen to me, Topher,” she eventually said once she knew she could be calm. “HYDRA is not cool, it’s not some slick spy thing, they are, and have always been, Nazis.”

Topher scrunched his nose at her. “Nazis are something completely different.”

“No, they’re not,” Rani told him firmly. “They were the deep science division of Hitler’s Third Reich. It was ran by a man that Mengele approved of.”

“Who was Mengele?” he asked her, looking genuinely unsure.

_The only thing that kept me from crying in that moment was the shear amount of anger that boiled over._

_I sat him down and gave him a history lesson that left him a bit wide eyed. The gaps in his education alone were astounding. All he really knew was that WWII was Americans, and some other countries, fighting Hitler because he was killing Jews in the Holocaust. He hadn’t even heard of HYDRA until the recent events, or if he had, it was such a small footnote that he never seemed to notice. Did he sleep through his history classes?_

_He didn’t know that it was more than Jews who were killed, but also homosexuals, the mentally ill, the disabled, and Romani. He called them Gypsies and I pointedly explained to him why that was a slur. I told him it was much worse than rounding people up and killing them. That many were experimented on by the likes of Mengele and Schmidt… probably others._

_At least twice he said ‘that can’t be right, that can’t have happened’._

_I told him that’s exactly why it keeps happening, because no one believes that it can. They see a tragedy and say never again, but they never think about what it would take to make sure that never again actually sticks._

Rani was exhausted. 

Over the next few days, she was inundated with questions by the staff. Some seemed to actually be interested in learning more about what was going on regarding S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA. Others had some personal prejudices that didn’t look like they were going to be changed with little things like facts. 

At least it didn’t affect the work environment very much, and no one accused her of being HYDRA. But by the time the end of the week got there, she was just plain tired. 

“I got the trash,” Rani told one of the staff, “you go see if Cheryl needs help stocking.”

It was just after the lunch rush, Rani had another two hours of shift and then she could go home. There wasn’t much for her to do back at her apartment. Sometimes Lonettte would come by but for the most part Rani sat and watched reruns of old television shows. 

_I told myself I just needed time to recover, to de-stress. I suppose any time you have to tell yourself that, you’re just trying to hide the truth._

There was a large alleyway that ran down the back of the line of businesses. Rani wasn’t too worried about going out there by herself in the daytime, there was always delivery vans and people about. She threw the trash into the large bin and dusted her hands on her apron. 

A noise caught her attention and she saw a man scavenging in the trash of the restaurant next door. At first she paid him no heed, he was just an old man trying to find something to eat. She felt sorry for him but Barry warned her not to give anything to the homeless who came by. He said it was like feeding stray animals, once they know they can get food from you, they will just keep coming back. Rani wasn’t sure that was the right way to look at it, but she didn’t want to lose her job over it either.

_I used to be a happy person. I used to care, about my job, about helping people. Now I could barely gather the strength to get out of bed in the mornings. I know what happened to me…_

_but I didn’t understand what was happening to me._

Rani spared the man one last glance before heading back, but that glance was all it took.

“Freddy?” Rani asked before she had a chance to stop herself.

The old man looked up and it took a moment before the recognition sat in. “Rani?”

“Wha… what are you doing here?” she asked as she moved forward. 

The man moved away from the trash bin, almost guiltily. He was wearing a sweater and slacks that looked worn and dirty. The jacket he wore didn’t look much better for wear. He wiped his hands on the sides of his pants and looked like he was trying not to state the obvious. Eventually his shoulders gave in. “I was looking for some dinner.”

Rani didn’t know what to say. She knew the man, Fredrick McCurtain, from her first two years at S.H.I.E.L.D. He was the head of the department, the job that Wilkerson got when Freddy retired. That was several years ago now. 

“You’re wondering why I’m sifting through garbage,” he sounded a tad embarrassed.

Freddy had an excellent benefits package when he retired, so it did cross her mind. “Yes, sorry.”

“The short?” Frank gave a defeated sigh and she got a really good look at his face. He was in his seventies at least, the smudged dirt hiding just how wrinkly and warn his face had gotten. “This whole HYDRA thing went down and now my children think I’m HYDRA. They kicked me out of my own home.”

“What?” Rani said bluntly. 

“That would be the long story,” he said before a wet cough got stuck in his throat. He pulled out a hanky and cleared it. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Rani was still trying to wrap her head around things. The Freddy McCurtain she saw retire was strong, self-assured… this man looked as if he had just given up. “You’re hungry, I’ll get you some food.”

“No, that’s…” he suddenly looked torn, he wouldn’t be going through the dumpsters if he wasn’t hungry enough to do so.

“It’s fine,” she offered him what she could of a smile, “just don’t tell anyone, I mean it. I could lose my job.”

“I understand.” He nodded thankfully.

Rani went back inside to the refrigerator storage unit. Perks of being a manager, she got to eat any of the food she wanted to, as long as she logged it. Grabbing a chicken sandwich and bottle of mixed berry juice, she told the staff she was taking a break. It was slow, everyone was just doing busy work anyway, or at least attempting to.

As she got to the door to head back outside, Rani realized that she just took for granted that the man wasn’t HYDRA. He said his kids thought he was HYDRA, but he never said specially he wasn’t. But he’d been a good guy, treated her well in the short time she knew him. 

_I had to do it, I had to._

Pulling out her phone, she quickly brought up IsHeHYDRA.com. She typed in his full name and waited as the search results came back. He was listed as Low Probability. 

Feeling relieved and guilt wracked at the same time, Rani went back outside to find Freddy waiting on her. Making sure no one was paying attention, she passed over the food. “I mean it, don’t tell anyone. The boss has a thing about feeding the homeless.”

_That’s when it really struck me, he was… without a home. It seems silly, but it was a concept I just couldn’t wrap my head around._

“I won’t tell a soul,” he said gratefully, restraining himself from swallowing the sandwich whole. “Thank you.”

Rani gave him another attempted smile. She got a whiff of Frank and he stank of body odor and grim. She wondered when he last had a shower. “Do you have some place to go?”

“There’s a shelter,” he pointed east then opened up the juice, “but it’s been reaching capacity a lot lately. I’m heading to another down a few blocks. Hoping for luck on that one.”

“I hope it works out,” she told him sincerely. 

“I should get going,” Freddy tossed his trash away into the bin. “Thank you again. Glad to see that you made it through. Always knew you were one of the good ones.”

_Honestly, what do you say to that?_

_I really was lucky, wasn’t I?_

_I mean, if I hadn’t been able to make ends meet I could have moved back home and lived with my parents like some college kid. But I found a job, I kept my apartment, and despite the fear and the nightmares, I got to live._

_I got to continue on._

_Is that why I feel all this guilt?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They never did explain what happened with all the data Black Widow dumped onto the web.  
> Someone creating a website and monetizing it via ad-revenue just seemed like the obvious response.


	6. The New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading!

_After the Fall, time seemed to drag, you know? There was so much to do, so little that I could do. Even getting a job didn’t help to speed the days forward. Hours just dragged on and I probably slept more in those few months than I had in the last few years, when I could sleep. So when my mom called me about Rosh Hashanah, I couldn’t believe it was already upon us._

_You might not know, but Rosh Hashana is the Jewish New Year. As a people, we run on a different calendar year than the rest of the world. The year that was ending was 5774 and, as you can probably guess, it was a time of planning, renewal, that kind of thing. Lots of prayers, lots of food during Rosh Hashanah, and the breaking of the fast on Yum Kippur._

_Yum Kippur follows Rosh Hashana, it’s a day of atonement for the sins committed in the previous year…_

_This would be the first time I’d seen my mother since… everything. It was her mother who survived the HYDRA attack on her village. She’d been just as supportive of me joining S.H.I.E.L.D. as Babbe had. And it didn’t matter how many times Mom told me I was welcome to come home._

_I wasn’t sure I deserved to be..._

Rani was picked up by her father at the train station in Connecticut. He gave her a big hug, whispering in her ear that everything was going to be okay. When he let her go, Rani nodded as she fought back tears. Hershel Feldman wasn’t much for words, but when he did speak, he always made them count.

Her family lived in a row of houses in what was considered the Jewish section of town. It was a nice, middle-class area, their synagogue within walking distance. Rani had noticed a few buildings had been torn down, replaced by newer structures. Some stores had changed hands. There was finally a traffic light at the intersection of Pine and Wilcox. 

_I was always so busy with S.H.I.E.L.D., every time I came home it was like this. Seeing all the things I’d missed, every change that happened regardless if I was there to witness it. Screw looking up at the universe and contemplating your insignificance… just leave home for a while and come back._

_Life marches on._

Her father pulled up into the driveway that went past the house and into the back yard where the garage was. 

“Your mother is waiting for you,” Hershel told her as he turned off the engine. “I’ll grab your bags.”

“Thanks Papa,” she said quietly and slowly exited the vehicle. She knew, deep down, that her mother held nothing against her. That she knew her daughter wasn’t HYDRA. But that didn’t keep Rani from having a mild anxiety attack as she walked up the back steps that lead into the kitchen.

The fresh smell of her favorite pierogis graced her nose and she spotted her mother fishing them out of a giant pot. The woman turned as Rani kissed the mezuzah on the doorpost. 

“Oh Rani,” her mother greeted her, wiping her hands on her apron before squeezing Rani’s body with her arms. “Baruch Hashem, I am so glad you’re home.” 

Rani fought back tears, it just felt so good to be held by her mother. In that moment she felt as if nothing could touch her or harm her. That maybe everything had been a dream, a horrible, miserable, dream.

“Girls,” her father politely edged them to the side as he walked through with Rani’s suitcase. Her mother released Rani just enough to receive a kiss on the cheek from Hershel before he hauled the suitcase up the stairs. 

Beth kissed Rani’s hair before finally releasing her. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ve been so worried about you. Have you been keeping safe?” 

“Yes, mom.” Rani offered her the best smile she could muster.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alright,” she said as she led her over to the kitchen table. “We’ll get you fed and then you can go to sleep and everything will be better after a good meal.” 

_Utilizing my Grandmother’s technique for cooking, which was basically ‘make it with lots of love’, made everything better. Mom loaded me up with pierogis and she got my favorite desert from the bakery. You know, nothing lifts my spirits like a bowl of matzo ball soup._

_Great, now I’m hungry._

Rani ate with absolute delight and then took tea into the living room for her father. He sat in his favorite recliner, a book in his hand, this time a memoir of a man who discovered that he was Jewish following his mother’s death. Rani hadn’t read it yet but it sounded like a fascinating read, just the kind of thing her father would love.

“Your favorite tea, Abba,” Rani said as she sat it down on the side table. Rani had a habit of alternating between calling her father, Dad, Papa, and the Hebrew meaning of the word. 

Hershel patted the arm of his recliner and she sat down on it. He wrapped his arm around her gently and Rani leaned down to rest her head against his shoulder. Again, she felt safe, protected, that no one could hurt her again. 

“You know, G-d is fickle sometimes,” he admitted as he gave her a reassuring hug. “He pushes us to our limits, and sometimes the most horrible of situations can have unbelievably positive results.” 

“Like when Captain America and the Howling Commandos saved Grandma and her family?” asked Rani, feeling like a five year old sitting on her father’s lap as her Gran retold the family story. 

“A lot like that,” he replied softly and lightly tousled her hair. 

They sat there for a few moments, her father letting her stew on the knowledge that her story wasn’t over yet. 

_I survived… must have been for a reason, right?_

Hershel asked her if she had read the book he’d been reading. She told him she hadn’t and to tell her about it. They sat there for an hour, talking aimlessly, but it felt good to be home. Beth joined them and they all managed to talk about what happened when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.

Mostly, Rani still couldn’t tell them about shooting Wilkerson. 

_I don’t know what was worse, the truth or the secret._

Exhausted, Rani eventually retired to her old bedroom which now served as a guest room. 

If her mother had her way, Rani’s room would probably still look as she left it when she went to college. Instead, most of her teenage paraphilia was safely tucked away and the Star Trek bedsheets were replaced with something a bit more adult… and pastel.

Rani woke up to the smell of French toast. She went downstairs to find that her mother had cooked enough for an army, which was a bit suspicious. There were even fresh bagels from the bakery in midtown. Her dad probably drove in early to get them.

Calling dibs on the everything bagel, Rani kissed her father’s cheek as she sat down at the table. She then proceeded to slather on the cream cheese. 

_So I like a little bagel with my cream cheese._

“Your Uncle Ira is coming with your Aunt Rachel,” her mother told her, “and your cousins will also be here.” 

Rani’s suspicions had been confirmed. Beth had likely invited the entire extended family over for breakfast. There was her aunt and uncle, plus their two boys who were younger than her. Michael had just started law school and David was in his final year of high school. They were the energetic type so obviously there was a split in the gene pool somewhere. 

“Oh,” the woman continued, “and your cousin Sophie is coming as well.” Sophie and Rani actually grew up together, one class apart. “Maybe a few others.” 

Of course, by her mother’s standards, a few other people meant her entire family on this continent. Aunt Rachel was her mother’s sister, and they also had a brother, Daniel. He brought his three children, Sophie, Adam, and the youngest, Mica. Daniel’s wife Ilana was on a work trip and thankfully no one brought their significant others. 

This was already more than Rani could handle. She breathed heavily as everyone arrived, cringing, expecting the worst that never came. Each relative, upon arrival, hugged Rani as tightly as they could and asked how she was doing. All showed signs of being nothing but supportive of her. Not an inch of blame or mistrust that Rani could see.

_We all grew up on grandmother’s stories. When we were younger, we all wanted to be Howling Commandos and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t really all that well known back then. It was just a private company, they stayed out of the news when possible. But we all knew of them, and we wanted to join to help change the world._

_But just like all the kids who grow up wanting to be policemen, firemen, and astronauts, sometimes reality gets in the way. I was the only one who made it in, and as an accountant, not a hero._

The entire family then left to go the Temple for the Rosh Hashanah services. The Temple was a modest building, with police outside standing guard. Rani held her breath as they got to the door, wondering if she could disappear into the crowd. No one seemed to pay any attention to her at first and slowly the anxiety eased to a manageable level. 

They moved inside and ended up walking down a hallway of offices and a couple of classrooms used for Hebrew School. Rani had gone there when she was young, and it had changed too. Fresh coat of paint and new furniture. 

_Life marches on._

Eventually they made it into the large gathering hall. The main feature was a large platform with seating all around it for the Rabbi, Cantor, and a few others. The centerpiece was a large beautiful window which held the Torah. 

Mrs. Silks, a friend of her mother’s, greeted them warmly and they ended up sitting with the Silks family for the service. It lasted hours and Rani found it to be very calming. It was the first time since the Fall she had been able to attend Temple. She focused on the Rabbi and the Torah, and it became easy to ignore if anyone was looking at her.

Finally the Shofar was blown and the final prayers recited. Rabbi Katzman then finished his speech about the New Year and dismissed the gathered group. Several stayed and approached the platform, wishing to speak to him. 

Rani didn’t want to intrude or make her family wait, but the Rabbi caught her eye and motioned her to come forward. She saw that her mother was quite happily chatting with Mrs. Silks as her father was reading through a prayer book. They obviously expected Rani to stay and speak to her Rabbi.

“Your mother has filled me in on what’s been happening,” the Rabbi told her as she approached. “She told me of a bad experience you had with a Rabbi in DC.” 

“It wasn’t pleasant,” she tried to make a lark of it but the words only came out crushed. “Granted, I probably should have expected it. I… why should they believe I magically unknowingly worked for a Nazi extension? Why didn’t I see it?” 

“We all want to see the good in people,” Katzman didn’t judge her as he spoke, “and we want to think of the world in the best view.”

Rani looked him in the eyes and the anger inside herself tensed her jaw. “But I should have seen it.” 

“Dwelling on the past will not help you, Rani,” the Rabbi spoke, his words and eyes full of wisdom. He gauged her for a moment before asking, “Did something else happen?” 

Rani felt like she should cry, but she had no more tears left to spare. “Don’t tell my family, please.” 

“Your secrets have always been safe here,” he led her slightly to the right so that their backs were to her parents, “you know that Rani.” 

“I… I killed someone, that day… when…” the words tumbled out of her heart like a rockslide and got caught in her throat. “I didn’t have a choice. He was going to… he almost…” 

_I was wrong, there are always more tears._

Katzman gave her a moment, then asked, “And you’re wondering what G-d thinks of you?” 

All Rani could do was nod in response.

“Do you remember the Synagogue shooting that happened not too long ago?” he asked and when she nodded again he continued. “A Sephardic Rabbi, a friend of mine, suggested that Jews take up arms in self-defense. He specifically meant that we should have a gun to protect ourselves in case something happened. Do you remember a few people asking me if it was okay to carry a weapon during Shabbat?” 

“Yes,” Rani tried to stealthily wipe away her tears, not that it would cover the redness and puffiness. “You said that as long as the gun is only used when it is absolutely necessary, and in defense of one’s life and family, that G-d couldn’t be mad at us for violating Shabbos or taking a life.” 

He managed to give her a smile that wasn’t patronizing. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

“That even though I took a life,” she could say the words but that didn’t mean she believed them, “it’s more or less forgivable because I did it to protect myself?” 

“It is forgivable,” he affirmed the statement. “In fact, it is permissible in cases where it is absolutely necessary.”

“Of course, thank you.”

_I was thankful, I really was. While I still had my doubts, I was a little less fearful that I was the monster I was afraid I became that day._

“How has everything else been?” The Rabbi changed the subject, slightly. “Are people giving you a hard time?” 

“There have been a few swastika’s painted on my door,” she answered with annoyance. 

“If you feel like you’re in a hostile environment,” Katzman frowned, not at her but at the thought of someone doing that, “then perhaps it’s best you find another apartment?”

“It’s just paint,” she shook her head, “it’s not that big of a deal.”

He looked at her sadly. “I think history would disagree with you.”

Rani was going to argue but she realized what she said. “It’s upsetting, yes, but I like my apartment. It’s home. I’m not gonna be run out of it because someone thinks they’re being clever, or worse, funny.”

“And you don’t want your family to worry about you.” Katzman nodded his understanding.

“I know that I’m very lucky, Rabbi.” She glanced back at her parents. “I met a man I used to know in S.H.I.E.L.D., he’s homeless now because his family kicked him out, thought he was HYDRA.”

“Your family would never turn their back on you,” he spoke with absolute conviction.

“I know that,” Rani managed a smile, “but I don’t want to burden them anymore than I have to.”

“G-d does not give us any more than we can handle,” he replied sagely. “Perhaps he’s given you just enough, a push, to see what you will do next.” 

She couldn’t help but almost smile at that. “My dad said something like that.” 

“Your father is a smart man.” 

_I’m still not really okay with the blood on my hands. I don’t think I ever will._

_But the Rabbi and I had a good talk, a necessary talk. At the very least I can accept that I had no choice in my actions… other than to let Wilkerson kill me. That’s not really a choice is it?_

_Still, it’s hard to come to terms with actually killing someone. Soldiers do it, cops do it… heroes do it. But I’m not a hero, I’m just an accountant. I wasn’t saving anyone, I was only saving myself._

_That’s not much of a hero._

_Regardless, I really needed that, to get the burden of what I had done off my chest. It felt like a new beginning, a new year, pun intended. But what the Rabbi and my dad said about G-d testing us, and how the worse situations can have meaning, and purpose, that... that seemed like a stretch._

The next morning, Rani’s mom suggested they get out and do some shopping. Rani hadn’t bought any new clothes since the summer and apparently her mother noticed these things. It made Rani feel like a kid again, to have her mom drag her through a department store to try on clothes, but Rani wasn’t in a position to argue. 

Once Beth Feldman set her mind to something, there was no arguing with her. 

“You should wear more warm colors,” her mother said, pulling another blouse from the rack, “they flatter you.”

Rani really hoped that this wasn’t going to turn into another ‘you should find a nice Jewish boy’ discussion. She had managed to avoid one of those the whole trip so far. “I’m gonna go try these on,” she said about the pile of clothes in her arms. 

“I’m going to see if they have this in your size,” her mom said of a blouse with rosettes. 

Making her escape, Rani found the changing area and one of the attendants let her in. Rani got a good look at herself in the mirror and bright lights of the changing room. She’d gotten thinner, and not in a flattering way. 

_Stress does that to you._

Rani finished up with the items and decided that only three were fit to purchase. She was still debating whether she should try to convince her mother not to buy them when she exited the room.

“Hail HYDRA,” a voice said snidely.

Rani’s head snapped up to see three people, two women and a man, standing at the entrance to the changing area. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what your kind say to each other, right?” The lead woman stepped forward, crossing arms, “Or do you prefer the better known Heil Hitler?” 

“Andrea?” It took a moment for Rani to recognize the woman. “Andrea Kaminsky?” 

“I’m surprised you remember me,” Andrea replied stepping closer, her face twisting slightly in rage, “but then you probably have files on all of us. That’s what you Nazi’s do. You catalogue my kind out of existence.”

Rani hadn’t seen Andrea since middle school, years ago. They hadn’t been friends, but not enemies either. Just classmates. “I’m not HYDRA. I didn’t know. I’m just as Jewish as you are.”

“Didn’t know?” she nearly shouted. “We’re just supposed to believe that. And please, we all know that HYDRA had infiltrated every major group. Why not put in a fake Jew or two while they’re at it.”

The two people standing with Andrea remained silent, perfectly happy with letting Andrea take the lead. The other woman looked like a younger Andrea, probably her sister but Rani couldn’t remember if she had one. The man was possibly a boyfriend, neither were wearing wedding bands and they didn’t look at all alike.

“Be honest,” Andrea’s tone turned to mock pleasantries as she stalked forward, “just how many of my people did you kill? I bet that story about your grandmother being rescued by the Howling Commandoes from HYDRA was just a cover.” 

Rani backed up and hit the changing room door, the knob digging into her back. She wanted to fight back, to say something, maybe push Andrea aside and run away. But the last time Rani fought back…

“You should be in jail,” Andrea pointed a finger at her, “or better yet, dead, like all Nazis should be.” 

That’s when Rani remembered, Andrea’s paternal grandfather was a survivor of Auschwitz. He had been the only one of his family to survive the camps. He met a nurse who had been working with the allies to the liberate them. The rest of the story is pretty self-explanatory from there.

Rani stood stock still, clutching the clothes her mother had given her. She wanted to say something…

_‘I didn’t know’ is not a good answer._

_Ignorance is not a defense._

_Neither is ‘just following orders’._

“I think we’ve heard quite enough from your mouth, Andrea Kaminsky.” Beth Feldman swept in like a tornado, barreling through the two guarding the exit. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Your mother should be ashamed to have raised such a stupid daughter.”

“Hah,” Andrea laughed, “at least my mom didn’t raise a Nazi.” 

“No,” Beth stood up to the girl as Rani shrunk back, “she raised a single-minded bully who is dolling out the rhetoric spun by hate mongers. You’re no better than those brainwashed morons on the news.”

Andrea was visibly taken aback by the harshness of the woman’s words, and hopefully she saw the truth in them. Beth used it as an opening to grab Rani’s arm and drag her out of the changing area before any of them could think to stop them. 

Beth insisted on buying the three pieces Rani had picked out. She was, as she put it, not going to let some dimwit run her out of a perfectly good store. One of the clerks had heard the exchange an offered to have a security guard escort them to their car. Beth assured them they were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, but if they insisted, then who was she to argue.

There was never any argument where Rani got her stubborn streak from, when she chose to be stubborn.

_When we got back, we didn’t talk about the incident. I know mom told papa, but it wasn’t a topic for discussion at dinner._

_I didn’t want to put in my family in that kind of position, to have to defend themselves… to have to defend me. That’s not a burden they should have to bear. But I shouldn’t blame myself. I wasn’t the only person fooled by HYDRA. I can’t stop people from listening to certain news channels who stir the hatred just to garner ratings._

_No, it was a New Year, a time of renewal. A fresh start._

_Life marches on._

_With or without you._


	7. The Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

_I survived the Fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.… but I swear, if the Bus Authority doesn’t get their act together I will finally reach the end of my rope._

It looked like it was probably gonna start snowing at any moment. Rani’s usual bus route had been thrown into detours. She had to take one bus thirteen miles out of her way hoping she could catch the 87 Bus which would drop her off a block from work. 

That day it was raining, cold as balls, or whatever the saying was. Hanukkah was a few weeks away, so it was November and people were already setting up Christmas displays everywhere. Rani was stuck standing in a bus shelter with two very charming individuals who decided to light up a cigarettes. Three others were vaping. 

_I just wanted out of the crowd, so I hopped on next bus that would take me anywhere near the bistro._

Rani used the fact that the bus came to a stop to avoid answering the text from her mother. She was asking about Hanukkah this year, when Rani would be coming up to visit again. After the incident with Andrea, Rani wondered if it was a smart idea to go back home. Maybe it was better if she let some more time pass. 

Exiting the bus, Rani got her bearings. The rain had calmed down to a light drizzle and she was only a few blocks away from the bistro. Pulling her coat tight and her crochet cap down around her ears, she set off. She had plenty of time to get there, she was on the lunch and dinner shifts this week. 

Realizing she was behind the bistro, she cut across a back alley. Much like the one behind her work, it was full of service people on breaks and delivery men unpacking trucks. It would be safe to pass through, unlike other areas of the city. 

A morbid part of her wondered if it would be irony to die in some random mugging in a back alley after surviving the Fall. She distracted herself by trying to remember the actual definition of irony.

“Frank?” Rani stopped as she passed an area of dumpsters. 

“Rani,” the man coughed as he sat slumped on an overturned milk crate, leaning against a brick wall. She had nearly missed seeing him, just out of the corner of her eye.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked as she came over.

Frank was still wearing the same clothes as before, though now they looked soaked through. He wheezed a bit. “Just taking a respite.”

“Why aren’t you at the homeless shelter?” Rani saw how deathly pale he was looking, sickly even. 

“Not enough beds,” he coughed and it was a nauseating hack. “Gave mine up to someone with more life to live.”

“What, I don’t…” her words trailed off as Frank slumped, nearly coming off the crate. “Frank? Frank!”

_I almost thought he died on me right there. But I’ve seen dead bodies before._

A few hours later Rani sat in the waiting room of the hospital. She had called Barry who said he’d come back and close for her, one of the shift leaders would run the bistro. Frank wasn’t family, not even a friend really, but she felt that someone needed to be there for him.

After a while of sitting at the back of the room next to the vending machines, Rani started to feel nauseous herself. She’d been out in the cold and rain as she waited for the ambulance to come. She really hoped she hadn’t caught anything. 

She went to the rest room and splashed water on her face. Taking some long, slow, even breaths, whatever had been bothering her passed. Perhaps she just needed something to eat, she had skipped lunch. She could grab something from the vending machines, but that didn’t sound appealing to her. 

Deciding that if she got really hungry she’d go by the cafeteria, Rani went back to the waiting room. Someone had taken her spot so she had to hunt around for another one. 

“Miss Feldman,” a man said her name and she turned to see a doctor looking around.

“Here,” she replied somewhat timidly.

The man walked forward and she saw his name was Dr J. Kulwiki. “You brought in Mr. McCurtain. What is your relationship to the man?”

“We used to work together,” she told the truth. “I found him passed out, and called 911. Is he okay?”

“I really shouldn’t be discussing his medical history with you,” Kulwiki gave her a sympatric frown, “but it seems that he’s homeless? He had no emergency contact information on him and he’s still unconscious.”

“He has at least one kid,” Rani tried to remember what he had said, “but I don’t know where they live or anything. He was living in a shelter, or, was supposed to be.”

“I’m going to give it to you straight, Miss Feldman.” Kulwiki continued his professional demeanor, which was actually very disheartening. “Mr. McCurtain is dying. He’s had walking pneumonia for I don’t know how long, and with his advanced age, his body just isn’t going to recover.”

_I asked if there was anything I could do. It seems like such a stupid question though. I’m not a doctor._

_The man suggested I help with locating Frank’s family. I think he was just trying to make me feel useful._

Rani walked into the Beacon Street Men’s Shelter later that night. It was well past dinner time and the communal areas were full of people playing cards or watching the news. It did look rather packed, she couldn’t see a single empty chair and there were a few men sitting on the ground. About half the faces glanced in her direction as she turned to the reception desk. 

“I’m sorry,” the older man behind the desk said, “but the women’s shelter is about three blocks south of here.”

“Oh,” Rani blushed, feeling a bit awkward about being there. Later she’d wonder what she must have looked like for the receptionist to think she was homeless. “I’m actually looking for information on one of your… uh… patrons?”

“This is a safe place.” The man turned a wary eye towards her. “If you got beef with someone, or looking to serve papers, find somewhere else to do it.”

“No, no,” she shook her head, “nothing like that. Frank McCurtain, I think he stayed here a few days. I found him in the alley… he’s really sick. I took him to the hospital, I’m just trying to find his family.”

“Which hospital?” he asked and the next thirty minutes were spent proving to him that Rani was actually there to help. He put a call into the hospital and everything. Eventually she learned the receptionist’s name was Burton. “You used to work with him? At S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I’m not HYDRA,” she replied meekly and bit too automatic for her liking. “He was the head of my accounting department before he retired.”

“She’s clean, Burt,” another man came up to the desk. He was older, fifties probably, and was using a crutch. “I’ll vouch for her.”

Burt considered that for a moment, then said, “He filled out an intake form, give me a moment to bring it up.”

As he typed away on his computer, Rani turned to the homeless man. “Thank you, but I don’t know you.”

“Don’t know you either,” he admitted with a small shrug, “but I was ops in S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re no HYDRA agent, or if you are, you’re so damn good you deserve the win.”

Rani frowned. “Thanks, I think?” 

He laughed lightly. “Name’s Tyler Popov, as I said, ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., though about five years ago I got a little to close and personal with a claymore.” Tyler made a vague gesture to his side that was leaning on the crutch. 

“Alright,” Burt interrupted, “Frank put an emergency contact number down.” He scribbled some stuff on a piece of paper. “I’ll call the hospital back and give them the information.” Burt reached to hand her the paper, then paused. “I’ll give it to you. Don’t make me regret it.”

“You won’t.” Rani nodded while giving a thankful smile. “I just want to make sure he’s taken care of.”

Burt gave her a wary look, as if he didn’t quite trust that Rani wasn’t lying or something. She didn’t know how to assuage his fears so she took the number and hoped for the best. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Tyler offered and they headed towards the entrance. “It’s a good thing you did for Frank. Lots of people would have just walked on by.”

“I probably would have,” she admitted with a tinge of regret. She didn’t regret helping, but she probably would have just ignored him that first meeting, and probably the second. “But I knew him.”

“When you know their name, it makes it personal.” Tyler let out a long sigh when they got to the door. “With this whole HYDRA business, even best friends are turning against each other. Stories of people actually doing the right thing are getting fewer and far between.”

“Yeah,” she offered numbly, pulling her coat tight. It was really late, but some of the buses were still running. “Thank you, again, for vouching for me.”

“Not a problem.” Tyler smiled but it fell pretty quickly. “It’s easy to see now, the real agents and the HYDRA agents. Makes me feel like a bit of an idiot for not seeing it before.”

_There is a sadistic kind of comfort in knowing that others made the same mistake that you did._

_Doesn’t help with the guilt though._

Rani didn’t call the number Burton gave her right away. It was likely Frank’s son had gone to bed or was nearly there. Instead, she used the name and number to locate Kelvin McCurtain’s home address. It wasn’t exactly a simple task, nor was it akin to hacking. There was tricks, little known pathways that one could exploit if they knew they were there.

_I may not been a spy, but you don’t hang around an intelligence corporation and not pick up a few useful tidbits._

Getting up early, Rani sprung for a Taxi instead of trusting the buses to be on time. Just because it was a Saturday didn’t mean that Kelvin would be home all day. She got to the house at about eight thirty and hoped for the best.

It was a nice home, built in the 70s during a housing boom in the area. It was semi-detached, a lot of the houses lined up down the street. It kinda reminded her of her parent’s house, only not as old and bit more space in the front yard. 

Rani knocked on the door, three solid raps with her knuckles. She wasn’t sure how long she should wait, she wasn’t one for visiting people she had never met before, at least not without someone who could introduce her. But she started to hear rumbling and a dog bark. There may have even been a mumbled ‘coming’ yelled but she couldn’t be sure. A minute later, the door opened to an older man in his fifties who did bare a fair resemblance to Frank.

“Kelvin McCurtain?” Rani asked by way of greeting.

“Yes?” He raised a brow at her, looking as if he was trying to figure out if he knew her.

“My name’s Rani Feldman,” she started, figuring it was best to just unload the bulk of it, “and I’m an acquaintance of your father, Frank. I came to tell you that he’s been admitted to Washington Hospital for pneumonia. He’s… he’s in a coma and they don’t think he’ll come out of it.”

Kelvin regarded her for a long moment, then shrugged. “Is there anything else?”

“Ah,” Rani was at a loss, not sure how to deal with the complete apathy that rolled off the man. “I believe the hospital would like to speak to you.”

“What,” he snorted, “so they could bill me? You work for them? Is that it? I ain’t paying any hospital bills.”

“I don’t work for the hospital,” she told him, starting to get flustered. This was not how she expected this to go.

“Then why do you care?” He looked her up and down again. “You some kind of social worker or something?”

“No, I’m just a friend,” she explained, “I used to work in his department.”

“So you’re HYDRA then,” now he started to emote, nearly spitting at her. “Get off my property before I call the cops.”

Rani gave him the most confused and disgusted look. How could he be so… “Your father is dying.”

“Good!” Kelvin nearly shouted as he slammed the door on her. 

In a state of shock, Rani stood there for a good minute trying to decide what she was going to do. If she tried banging on his door to get him to listen, he probably would call the cops. They could take her in for trespassing and that would open way too many can of worms. All they would have to hear is ‘she’s HYDRA’ and who knows how long they might take to listen to reason. 

Numbly, Rani walked down the steps of the house. It was possible that she could get the cops to look at Kelvin, but then what could they do? It’s not a crime to not visit your dying parent in the hospital. Well, not a legal crime anyway. 

Getting to the street, she headed slowly down the sidewalk. She needed to walk off what had just happened so she figured she’d just keep going until she found a bus stop.

“Hey,” the neighbor, an older lady, nearly as old as Frank, was checking her mailbox as Rani walked past, “did I hear right? Frank in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Rani was too out of sorts to care about noisy neighbors. What could be the harm in telling this woman the truth?

“That Kelvin,” the woman made a tsking noise, “he’s always been a piece of work, even when he was a child. He’d bully the Peterson’s kids across the way given half a chance.”

“You’ve been Frank’s neighbor a long time,” she realized after listening to the woman’s familiarity with the family, “did he have any other children?”

“No,” she replied sadly, “just Kelvin, the holy terror. Name’s Grace by the way. Grace Upton.”

“Rani,” she offered her name. “Rani Feldman. I only knew Frank a little bit, from S.H.I.E.L.D., but I’m not HYDRA.”

“And neither was Frank,” Grace said with surety. “He gave his life to S.H.I.E.L.D. though. I think Kelvin resented it a lot, Frank not being around as much as he would have liked. Or maybe that boy was just born without a soul, it’s hard to tell these days.”

The older lady was so candid, it was quite refreshing. “How did Kelvin kick Frank out of his own house?”

“By being a manipulative little cuss,” Grace snorted as she leaned on the mailbox. “He moved away years ago, when he got married, and barely came around after that. Then you know the housing market crashed and the economy went and keeled over. Kelvin shows up and plays the prodigal son returns.” The old lady shook her silver hair that was shaped into a pixie cut. “A year into him staying there, he talks Frank into signing over the house, you know, in case something happens. I warned him that wasn’t a smart idea, just put it the will or get one of those ‘transfer on death’ deeds. But no, Frank fell for it. Signs over the house. Then all this HYDRA stuff happens and Kelvin has the perfect excuse to get rid of him.”

“That’s horrible,” was all Rani could say because that’s exactly how she felt.

“I put Frank up for a few days, told him he was welcome to stay,” Grace sighed, shaking her head again. “I think he was ashamed, or a bit embarrassed. Plus Kelvin kept giving him flack and I think he was afraid Kelvin would call the police on me. Frank said he’d find a place in the city, he had some funds from retirement.”

Rani debated if she should tell Grace the truth that Frank had ended up in a homeless shelter. That apparently Frank was too proud or too considerate to return. 

_Sometimes the truth just ain’t worth it._

“He’s in Washington Hospital?” Grace asked.

“Yes,” Rani frowned, “but the doctor says his body is failing. There’s no living will that anyone knows of, and Kelvin, I guess even if he talks to the hospital, he’ll probably…”

“Probably.” Grace glanced away for a moment and then turned back to her. “His wife died twenty some odd years ago, and his son is right pain in the ass, man deserves his peace.”

“Yeah,” Rani replied quietly.

“Lacy, his wife, was buried in the Methodist cemetery over on Broxton.” Grace told her, her brow scrunching up a little in thought. “I know he said something about having already bought the plot next to hers. Don’t know if he set up anything else. Might be good information to pass on to whoever takes care of his funeral plans. I’m sure it won’t be Kelvin.”

“Does he have any brothers or sisters?” Rani asked.

“All passed,” she replied with a touch of melancholy. “Has a granddaughter, Kelvin’s girl, but she hasn’t been around in over a decade. No idea where she is.”

“Okay, thank you,” Rani tried to smile, “you’ve been very helpful.”

“Frank deserved better than this.” Grace gave her a sympathetic smile. “You all deserved better than this.”

_But this is what we got._

After saying her goodbyes, Rani made her way down the street to the bus stop. She called the hospital to check on Frank, his condition hadn’t really changed, other than he wasn’t getting any better. Looking up the church Grace mentioned, Rani left them a slightly awkward voice mail about Frank’s funeral plans.

_I know it wasn’t my place or my responsibility, but I just couldn’t let Frank get buried somewhere away from his family, or worse, cremated and thrown G-d only knows where._

Rani didn’t typically work Saturday’s, but she promised to make up for the previous night and took Barry’s late shift. She got a call, a little after lunchtime, from the church. It was the church secretary who was sadden to hear about Frank’s condition. She said she would look into the burial information but she couldn’t really pass it along to a technical stranger. Rani understood, but at least it was something to start with.

When she got home, it was late, but she couldn’t really sleep anyway. Normally she had to wait till she was exhausted before she could even consider sleep. Then she would sleep for longer than she really probably should. If she didn’t wake up from a nightmare that is. In truth, her sleeping habits were all matter of messed up.

Rani thought about maybe getting some of that over the counter sleep aid stuff but was worried that it could become habit forming, even if it said it wouldn’t. She made a cup of tea and hoped it would help. 

The next morning, Rani got up early again and headed to the hospital. She wanted to visit Frank before her shift at the bistro. 

“How’s he doing?” she asked the nurse, Amanda.

“Still hanging on,” Amanda told her as she messed with some of the drip bags. Frank was looking very pale and gaunt, his features sunken in. 

“I walked out of the wreckage of the Triskelion,” Rani looked Amanda straight in the eye, not to be intimidating, but so she could see the reality in them, “please don’t try to spare my feelings.”

The woman watched her for a long moment, then frowned. “We’re already getting things ready to reset the bed for the next patient.” 

Rani nodded, fighting back some tears. “Has his son been here to see him?”

“No,” Amanda walked a little closer, voice dropping, “and I heard one of the administrators talking to him on the phone. Didn’t seem like a pleasant man.”

“He’s not,” Rani confirmed. She was still reeling a bit from what happened the day before. “What happens if he doesn’t claim the body?”

“Sits in the morgue downstairs for a while,” Amanda told her. “But if you make funeral arrangements with a funeral home, they can come pick up the body. Doesn’t matter if you’re not a relative.”

“Right,” she nodded, having a vague idea of what she was talking about, mostly from what she had seen on TV. She briefly remembered her Bubbe’s funeral. It had all happened fast, she had died peacefully in her sleep and was found the next morning. Within a week Bubbe had been buried in a Jewish cemetery surrounded by family and friends. 

Rani remembered throwing dirt onto the grave as a way of doing one last thing for her Bubbe and wishing her well. There was a sense of closure and peace. Rani remembered the ribbon being ripped off her right side and remembered that feeling of hope. Being surrounded by her family made it easier for her to mourn and probably let Bubbe know she was loved. She remembered all their friends helping them through it, providing food after the burial. 

This in mind, Rani found herself looking up funeral homes near the church where Frank had his burial plot. She also did some research on how much funerals cost. If he did have his plot paid for, that would help, but it still cost a considerable amount of money. 

Money she had… it would be the last of her savings, but she had it. 

_There I was, actually considering paying for the funeral of a man I barely knew. I hadn’t even put this much thought into what I’d do when my parents eventually left me. But then I knew that they would be taken care of, with or without me being there._

_My Bubbe was laid to rest with all her family surrounding her. Frank had nothing._

That was what bothered Rani the most. How could Frank have ended up on the street? The part about getting kicked out, that she understood even if it was deplorable, but the rest...

Frank was an excellent accountant, and he had been drawing pension from S.H.I.E.L.D. for several years. His house had been paid for, well, likely. So he should have had enough in savings to been able to afford himself at least a small apartment. Maybe moved himself into a retirement home? 

_Maybe I worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. for too long, but when a problem or a conundrum falls in front of me, my instinct is always to follow the money._

The bistro closed early on Sunday’s so it was about nine when Rani finally made it home. She thought about maybe fixing a light snack and watching an episode of a tv show before the news. Rani had caught up on a lot of television lately. 

Her phone rang and the caller ID said it came from the hospital. Dread filled her stomach and turned her cold as she answered. “This is Rani.”

“Hi, this is Amanda, from Washington Hospital,” the woman said and Rani recognized the voice. “I’m sorry, but Mr McCurtain passed about an hour ago.”

_I knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t so much that he died, but the way he died. This shouldn’t’ have happened._

_Frank was one more causality of HYDRA._

_It wasn’t going to end… was it?_


	8. The Cost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!  
> And thank you for reading!
> 
> Not going to lie, I cried a little both writing and editing this chapter.

_As I stood at the bank the next day, cashing out my savings plan so I could pay for funeral expenses, all I could think about was… nothing… absolutely nothing._

_I finally understood the lyrics to that song… “I have become, comfortably numb.”_

“Dear girl,” Grace nearly dropped the teapot onto the table, “you didn’t have to do that.” 

“It’s fine,” Rani shrugged, “it wasn’t so bad. He already had a plot paid for, so that cut a lot of the cost.”

“But still,” the woman sat down after pouring them drinks, “funerals are not cheap. I know, I’ve been looking into my own.” Grace didn’t even flinch at her own words. 

Rani didn’t really know how to respond to that, so she politely took a sip of her tea and then slightly changed the subject. “Thank you for speaking to the church on my behalf.” Grace didn’t attend the church but being Frank’s neighbor had some pull. Especially as the pastor was well aware of the ‘demons’ that Kelvin seemed to carry around with him.

“I was happy to.” Grace smiled as she drank of her own tea. “It’s not like Kelvin was going to do anything.”

Rani had spent Monday arranging Frank’s funeral. She did a little internet searching and found a company who handled a lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who died during the Fall. They gave her a good deal, but it was still a bare minimum funeral with a sturdy but basic casket. They would have no problems picking up Frank, they dealt with the hospital at lot.

The pastor was able to accommodate a funeral service for Friday, three o’clock. That felt like a really long time away to Rani but she was assured that this was normal. Everyone kept asking her what she wanted, gave her options to choose from. She didn’t really know what to say to any of it. The pastor and Grace knew Frank better than her so she let them make a lot of the decisions. But when none of them knew, she told them to just go with the standard. 

_Except I remembered he always had fresh lilacs on his desk. It was such a random thing to remember, but that became the flower of choice._

By Tuesday morning, pretty much everything was arranged except getting the obituary done. She had gone to Grace’s house for help as Rani only knew what she had learned about Frank in the past few days. Rani wanted to contact the granddaughter but she had apparently married, moved away, and was estranged from her father. Frank didn’t have a Facebook or anything like that. Kelvin did but it was completely private. 

_If S.H.I.E.L.D. was still operating, I could have asked Lloyd on the second floor to look into this for me. He’d have the granddaughter’s home address, medical and financial history, all within an hour. I used to think that was kinda neat, now it’s a bit frightening._

“Do you think Kelvin will come?” Rani asked as she took a break from checking the obit for spelling errors. 

“Probably not,” Grace made a snorting sound. 

Rani sighed and shook her head. “You think anyone will come?”

“Funerals aren’t popularity contests,” the woman’s words were cheeky but there was an underlying tsk in there somewhere.

“I know,” Rani chastised herself, “I just… Frank died practically alone, and for stupid reasons…”

_Frank died alone. People die alone all the time and end up in a better place. People always say that, people believe that. It doesn’t make anyone magically feel better though. It happens gradually. Death is a natural process. I knew that despite everything HYDRA and Kelvin had done, Frank was in a safe place._

The obituary was posted and Rani tried again to locate the granddaughter. She kind of wished she had paid more attention to Lloyd when he explained how he did the things he could do. Being reminded of him made her wonder what he was doing, had he survived… had he been HYDRA?

By Wednesday she couldn’t help herself. She went on IsHeHYDRA.com and looked him up. He had a slightly more percentage than she did, but he was still low probability. Rani was glad to see that because he had been a sweet guy, even if he often smelt of rock candy. It wasn’t a bad smell, she just never saw him eating candy or any evidence of candy on his person. 

Her fingers rested on the keyboard and she decided to type in Jameson. He came back at a hundred percent which meant that somewhere in the records he was confirmed as a HYDRA agent. Without thinking she typed in Wilkerson’s name, which unsurprisingly came back confirmed as well. 

_And that’s when the floodgate opened up…_

For over an hour, Rani started typing in names. Coworkers she had spent hours with on cases. People she had heard about in passing. 

_The dead man in the cubicle…_

It became almost like an addiction. Every name of a person she was sure wasn’t HYDRA that came back low filled her with relief. Every name of someone she was sure was HYDRA that came back confirmed made her feel vindicated. Every time she was wrong, she pushed through to the next. 

_When I started asking myself if these people were even still alive, I slammed the laptop shut. That was too far down the rabbit hole… there’s nothing good there._

On Thursday she got confirmation of having the shared gravestone updated to show Frank’s death. That was the last task on her to do list. Now Rani had no more reasons to avoid talking to her mother. 

“I don’t think I can make it this year,” Rani winced as she told her mom she wouldn’t be coming home for Hanukah. After much debate, Rani decided that the wounds torn open by the Fall were still too fresh. She wasn’t going to expose her family to attacks, or even violence. 

The newly painted swastika on Rani’s door that morning only solidified Rani’s belief she was doing the right thing.

There was an audible huff over the phone. “Well, if you have to work, then you have to work.”

“I need all the hours I can get right now,” Rani told her, this was the excuse she was hiding behind, “just need to get myself back on solid ground. I’ll be there next year, I promise, I’ll even make the blueberry rugalach.” 

There was a pause where Beth was likely deciding what tactic to use to convince her. She sighed, “Oh Rani, I do hope you change your mind. Your father and I will be so lonely. You’re our only child.” 

_I know that going home made me feel safe, but it was too much of a risk. I didn’t want to think what people might do… what could have happened in that dressing room… it wasn’t worth the risk to my family. The added guilt was completely unnecessary, thank you very much. I had plenty of it already, trust me, I had enough guilt to raise the Dead Sea above level._

Friday was a bit of a nightmare. Barry was supposed to run things but one of the employees sliced their hand open on a piece of plastic of all things. Barry took them to emergency care but someone had to cover lunch. No other shift supervisors was available and Friday’s are pretty busy at lunchtime, so Rani went in to get them through the rush.

It was about two o’clock when Barry made it back. Rani quickly changed in the bathroom out of her work clothes. She was checking her messages and the time as she moved swiftly towards the door.

“Rani,” she heard her named called and she looked up.

“Agent Teller.” Rani was nearly shocked to see him there.

“Well,” he smiled brightly, “this is a surprise. What brings you down here?”

“I, ah,” she pointed to her name badge she had clipped onto her purse, “I work here.”

“Oh,” Teller seemed confused but tried to quickly hide it.

“What?” she replied perhaps a little too defensively.

“I just…” he made an embarrassed little huh sound, “I thought you maybe worked for one of the offices down the street.”

Rani frowned at him. “People aren’t really looking to hire those with my… employment history.”

“Oh.” He gave her a sympathetic smile.

_Have I mentioned that the ‘sympathetic smile’ gets really old after a while? Because trust me, it so does._

“Sorry,” she looked down at her phone again, “but I’ve have a funeral to get to and if I miss my bus I’ll miss the connection.”

“Why don’t I give you a lift?” Teller asked.

“Uh,” was all Rani managed to utter.

“I have a company car, just finished a…” he trailed off with a short laugh. “Let’s just say I finished what I was doing and got some free time. That’s why I came in for a coffee.”

As Teller was an FBI agent, who knows what he had been doing in that part of town. There were lots of businesses and corporations in the high rises. Most of her customers were suits. She could always pick out the accountants.

“It would be faster than the buses,” she mused. Even with DC traffic, once they got outside the business area it would be fairly light. And they wouldn’t have to stop at every bus stop. “Uh, thanks?”

“It’ll make up for me putting my foot in my mouth earlier,” he offered with a smile. 

Teller had parked down the road in a parking garage. The car was black with government plates, and really clean, probably straight out of the motor pool. Must be nice to be able to just grab a car whenever they wanted. Granted, Rani preferred the buses and subway to driving in DC, but sometimes a car did come in handy.

“You paid for the funeral of a man you hardly knew?” Teller asked while they were stopped at a stop light. 

She had ended up telling him most of the story of all that had been happening since the Fall, well, some of it. “His son wasn’t going to do it.”

“He’s not your responsibility,” Teller pointed out, though not as insensitively as he could have.

Rani shrugged in her seat. “That’s not a good enough reason not to.” 

The light turned green and Teller left it at that. They made good time, getting to the church at two thirty. There was hardly any vehicles in the lot as they pulled in. A little bit of dread fill Rani’s stomach. What if no one came? 

What if no one cared that Frank McCurtain died…

“Thank you for the lift,” she told Teller as she popped open the door after he turned off the engine.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” He asked her and it seemed like more than him just being polite.

“You never met Frank,” Rani replied with a confused expression.

“That’s not a good enough reason,” he echoed her own words. “I don’t need to know the man to be sorry that he’s gone.”

“Thank you.” Rani gave him a small smile. 

It was weird, that the man who had helped interrogate her after the Fall was going to accompany her to a funeral of a man she barely knew. But Rani honestly didn’t want to walk into the church alone. 

Everything was set up when she went in. There was flowers placed all around the coffin sitting at the front of the church. It looked like every funeral scene in every movie she watched. 

“This is a Christian funeral,” Teller said as he looked around, “you’re Jewish.”

Rani frowned at him. “Frank was Methodist.”

The blood seemed to drain from Teller’s face. “I just keep putting my foot in my mouth today.”

The pastor came by and salvaged the situation. He explained that everything was done and they would be ready to go at three as planned. 

“Would you like to say a few words during the ceremony?” the older man asked.

“Do I have to?” Rani felt bad about not wanting to. She didn’t like public speaking in general, and she barely knew Frank, it just seemed like a receipt for disaster. 

“Not at all,” the pastor replied kindly.

“Rani,” she heard Lonette behind her and turned to see the woman entering the church. 

“Hey,” Rani gave the woman a hug, “thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Lonette replied and looked over at the agent. “Hello?”

“Oh, sorry, this is,” Rani started to introduce the man and then realized she didn’t know his first name, “Agent Teller, FBI, he gave me a lift.”

Lonette raised a single brow. “FBI offering Uber services now?”

“Uber,” Rani suddenly said, “now why didn’t I think of that?”

Grace and some older individuals came filing in. Rani didn’t recognize any of them, but Grace stopped by and told her that they were from the neighborhood and had also known Frank. The pews started to fill, people who had known Frank in his retirement and the church had come by to pay their respects. Even Tyler and a few from the shelter showed up. 

It was nearly three when everyone had taken seats. It was actually a fairly large turnout. Kelvin hadn’t shown up and Rani wasn’t sure if she was to be sad or relieved. 

Teller ended up staying, sitting with her and Lonette in the third row. She still hadn’t learned his name but she didn’t really know how to ask. At one point Lonette mouthed to her ‘he’s cute’ and Rani gave her a look. This was not the time, nor the place. Even if she was right…

“Wendy,” she heard Grace say and Rani turned around to see a woman come walking down the aisle. 

“Mrs. Upton,” the woman greeted Grace with a hug. A man with two young kids had followed in behind her. 

“So glad you could make it,” Grace whispered to Wendy and Rani remembered Grace mentioning that Kelvin’s daughter was named Wendy. 

Pulling away from Grace, Wendy walked up to the open casket of her grandfather. The man, Wendy’s husband Rani guessed, joined her with the kids. The pastor seemed to recognize her too, they shared a few words and then the family went to sit in the front row.

The funeral started and the pastor gave a speech, talking about how kind of a man Frank had been. Grace said a few words, as did a man who had apparently grown up with Frank and had also offered his help after Frank got kicked out of his own home. No one had known it had gotten so bad, but apparently that was Frank, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be burdened. 

“You stubborn old goat,” the man said pointedly to Frank’s body before shaking his head.

Wendy seemed to be in tears the whole time, her husband wrapping his arm around her and rubbing her shoulder. 

The pastor asked them to bow their heads in a final prayer. Rani did so and as the pastor spoke she mentally recited her own prayer for the dead. Once he was done, he announced that they would be taking Frank out to the attached cemetery. All was welcome to attend the lowering of the casket for finale farewells.

The attending visitors stood and started to mill about. Wendy went back up to see her grandfather again before the lid was lowered. Grace went up to her and gave her another hug. 

“I’m assuming you want to stay for the burial?” Teller asked her. “I can give you a lift home afterwards, unless you drove, Miss Lonette.”

“Miss Lonette?” Her friend smirked. “I like you. But no, I took the bus.”

“Alright then. Let me go and check in,” he pulled out his phone and jutted a thumb towards the door, “and I’ll meet you in the cemetery.”

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lonette grinned at her. “He’s cute, got the whole ‘David Tennent hair’ thing going for him.”

“You notice we’re at a funeral, right?” Rani frowned at her.

“What better reason to be thinking about life,” Lonette replied pointedly, “or specifically your lack of one. I worry about you, girl.”

“Teller was one of the FBI agents who interrogated me after…” Rani trailed off.

“Oh,” Lonette stopped smiling and gave her a curious look, “and you accepted a ride from him?”

_I honestly didn’t know how to respond to that._

_Looking back on everything that has happened in my life from the Fall onwards… I don’t think anyone would believe me if I told them. You’re probably watching this video and thinking the same thing. This can’t be real, this woman is just making stuff up._

_If only…_

“Rani, right?” Tyler limped over from where he had waited for the crowd to filter out. “It’s a good thing you did for Frank. I wanted to come by and say thank you.”

“Ah… thanks,” Rani replied awkwardly.

Tyler wasn’t the only one to thank her. Several came over and introduced themselves and how they knew Frank. Most of them admitted they didn’t even know what happened to him, or that he was even affected by the Fall. Some even seemed a little ashamed that they hadn’t done more themselves.

The coffin was removed by some church volunteers who acted as pallbearers. That’s when Wendy came over and introduced herself.

“I am so grateful for you doing this for grandpa,” she said with tears in her eyes as she held Rani’s hand. “I didn’t even… I live in Seattle and only found out on Facebook from a cousin, yesterday, that he died. I called dad and…” the woman shook in visible anger. “I talked to grandpa a few months ago, he sent money for Alissa’s surgery, and he said he was doing okay.”

Wendy broke down in tears again, her body wracking with sobs. She held on tight to Rani’s hand as if that was the only thing holding her up.

“I am so sorry,” Wendy finally was able to say. “I want you pay you back for the funeral but, I just don’t have any money. Alissa, my daughter,” Wendy looked over to the youngest who was being held by her husband. The girl looked a bit pale and gaunt now that Rani got a good look at her. “She developed a cancer, last year, and we put all our savings into some experimental treatments.”

“It’s fine, it’s okay,” Rani assured the woman with as much of a smile as she could muster. “I wanted to do this.” 

“Bless you.” Wendy tried to smile in return. “I won’t ever forget what you did. I will find a way to repay you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rani tried to tell her, fighting back her own tears. 

_I felt really uncomfortable with all the attention and thanks I was getting. I didn’t do this for the notoriety or accolades. I like to think I did it because it was the right thing to do._

_But maybe I only did it because that could have been me…_

After the funeral, Wendy made sure to leave her contact details with Rani, and vice versa. Rani told her not to worry about it, but Wendy was adamant that she’d find a way to make everything right.

Teller dropped Rani and Lonette off at their apartment. He didn’t make it awkward or anything, which she appreciated. 

Life just seemed to go on by like normal after that. Well, what passed for normal in Rani’s life. Hanukah was getting close and Rani tried to ignore the guilt that she felt about not going home. She just kept telling herself that it was for the best. 

“Rani Feldman,” a tall brunette in a burgundy suit was standing at the counter.

“Can I help you?” Rani wiped her hands on her apron. 

“Perhaps,” she handed over a business card, “Bernadette Rosenthal.”

“You’re a lawyer?” Rani said as she glanced over the details.

“Most days,” Bernadette said with a smirk. “I’m representing Wendy Linden in her case against her father, Kelvin McCurtain.”

“Case against her father?’ Rani frowned.

Bernadette looked around. “Can we speak somewhere a little more private?”

“Uh, sure.” Rani led Bernadette into the back office. “Wendy is suing her father?”

“Yes,” Bernadette set her briefcase down and popped it open, “it’s a civil suit, wrongful death.”

“Wrongful death?” Rani could admit she didn’t know a lot about criminal or civil law… tax law on the other hand. “Kelvin didn’t kill Frank, he got pneumonia.”

“Pneumonia from living on the streets,” the woman pointed out. “Let’s face it. Frank McCurtain died because he was pushed out of his home by a son who was just looking for an excuse to take his property.”

“It was a crappy situation, yes,” Rani was putting it mildly, “but is it actionable?”

“You tell me,” she said as she handed over a file.

Rani took the file and opened it. Inside was papers that she knew all too well. Bank statements, financials, all the bits and pieces a Forensic Accountant cut their teeth on. It didn’t even take Rani more than a quick glance to see that things weren’t right.

“Mind if I...?” Rani said as she sat down at the desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

“Be my guest,” Bernadette said as she gestured to the file.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that Rani nearly laughed because it was so sad. “He didn’t even try to hide anything.”

“He probably didn’t think he was doing anything wrong,” Bernadette replied with a sigh.

“Kelvin systematically took away all of Frank’s possible income and earnings, even before the Fall,” Rani said with a shake of her head. “His pension, his 401k, and social security… then after the fall the pension stopped coming in. The 401k was pretty much bled out.”

“All he had left was his social security,” Bernadette got a little edge to her voice, “but apparently that wasn’t enough to keep Frank around for, so he kicked him out.”

“Frank saved up a few months of his social security,” Rani was looking at the details, “and sent that money to Wendy. Otherwise, he was broke.”

“He knew he wasn’t going to last long,” the lawyer shook her head, “so he made sure it counted. His insurance policy was through S.H.I.E.L.D., that’s not getting paid out.”

“But,” Rani pulled out another sheet from the pile, “Kelvin put an insurance policy on his father three years ago.”

“He’s already put in the claim,” she responded with a bit of disgust. 

“This is all horrible,” Rani admitted, “and it sickens me. But is there a case here, for wrongful death?”

“Frank was in his seventies,” Bernadette told her, “and he had no means to support himself except for a measly social security check. Taking his money and kicking him out of a perfectly good home, any reasonable person could see that this could lead to harm or death.”

“And you don’t need all twelve jurors to agree in a wrongful death suit,” Rani suddenly remembered learning a little about this at one point in the past, “not like a homicide case, you only need a majority.”

“Exactly.” Bernadette smiled. 

“So you’re going to sue Kelvin,” Rani wanted to make sure she had the whole thing clear in her mind, “take the insurance money, maybe even the house, and give it to Wendy?”

The woman nodded. “And pay you back for the cost of the funeral.”

“I don’t care about that,” Rani shook her head, “and I don’t really want to get into a family feud. I mean, I’ll testify if you want me to about my part in it, but I’m not sure I want to be a part of the… this.”

“No, I get it,” Bernadette nodded and sat on the edge of the desk. “Old man dies, family sues each other, it’s nasty business. But it’s not just about the money, if it was, I wouldn’t have taken the case.”

“Then what’s it about?” Rani asked cautiously.

“Do you think Frank is the only one who’s lost their home over this whole HYDRA-S.H.I.E.L.D. fiasco?” Bernadette asked in all seriousness. “I have clients who are facing eviction notices, others who can’t get health care. It’s a mad house out there of fear and prejudice. We have to find a way to stop that.”

“And how will this help?” Rani was putting the pieces together but she needed to hear it out loud.

“Case law,” she replied firmly. “We show that there are consequences and people will think twice about pulling the same crap on others. We give victims in other districts a leg to stand on when fighting their own battles.” She took a deep breath. “You can’t put a cost on a person’s life, but no one is worth nothing.”

_And that’s how I met Bernadette ‘Bernie’ Rosenthal, you’ve probably seen her on the news._

_I admit, at first, I was kinda wary of her. She talked a good talk, but she was a lawyer. I didn’t know if I could trust her, though I was having difficulty trusting a lot of people._

_I decided that I would go along with it for now. That way I could make sure that Wendy wasn’t getting taken advantage of. I could back out if I thought things were getting too much._

_If I had known the consequences of my decision… oh hell, I still would have done it._


	9. The Symbol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading! :)  
> Bernadette "Bernie" Rosenthal is a real character from the comics.  
> She's a kick butt lawyer who once defended Steve Rogers himself.

_I admit, I was wary of Bernie at first. Like she said, family suing each other is nasty business. But the more I paid attention to what she was doing… the guiltier I felt._

_I was the lucky one._

On her next day off, Rani went to Bernadette, Bernie’s, office to give a deposition about how she found Frank and the events leading up to his death. Bernie also asked her to supply documentation for any expenses so that they could be logged as part of the damages. 

_I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want the money, but only because I needed it, not because I wanted it._

_I decided to cash out my savings, and I was willing to live with that decision._

“We’re not going to settle this out of court,” Bernie told her after they recorded the disposition. “The whole point is to get this to trial to prove a point. Will you be okay taking the stand?”

“I’ve actually been an expert witness before,” Rani admitted. “Not all S.H.I.E.L.D. cases were classified. Sometimes we even worked with the FBI or CIA. I’ve done Forensic Accounting and had to testify to my findings…”

“What?” Bernie asked since Rani had gone blank with thought.

“We’ve put some legit criminals in prison,” Rani realized. “But now with this whole HYDRA business, can they have our work questioned or thrown out?”

“There’s a few who are trying.” Bernie gave her a nod. “Only the cases which relied solely on evidence gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D. are even getting a chance for a second look.”

“I hate to say it,” Rani sighed and slumped into her seat, “but it would be so easy to fabricate evidence…”

“A few cases are looking to be overturned,” Bernie told her. “Haven’t you watched the news?”

“The news?” Rani nearly laughed. “It’s nothing but the same HYDRA crap… what new horrendous story did they dig up today?”

Bernie judged her for a moment. “You’re afraid you’ll see a case you worked on, see some unfortunate consequences of your actions.”

Rani opened her mouth to argue but ended up shaking her head and melting farther into her chair.

“Truth hurts, some of your forensic work probably did get used against the innocent,” Bernie didn’t hold anything back. “But it’s not your fault, you were given faulty information. You weren’t aware of pertinent facts.”

“I didn’t know,” Rani mumbled, “is not a good enough… pertinent fact.”

“But it’s the only one you got,” Bernie replied in a gentle tone. 

Rani wasn’t sure if Bernie was asking a question, stating a fact, or spouting rhetoric. So she just let the words sit in the air. 

_In criminal law, ignorance is not a defense. It means that even if you didn’t know something was illegal, you’re still guilty of committing an illegal act._

_‘Ignorance is Bliss’ is also a fallacy. You can never stay ignorant forever._

“I’ve lost count,” Rani was talking to her landlord in his office on the bottom floor of the building. “It looks like the same person keeps drawing it. The size and tilt are all consistent.”

“Do you want to file a police report?” he asked her with a disinterested shrug of his shoulders.

“Do you?” Rani replied a bit sharply. “It’s vandalism to your property and a hate crime.”

He scrunched his brow and looked at her like she was crazy. “A hate crime?”

“Yes.” Rani nodded to keep herself from calling him an idiot. “Drawing a swastika on a Jewish woman’s door shows threatening and malicious intent towards a minority ethnic group.”

“Look, what do you want me to do?” The man scratched his nose, unfazed. “The only camera on that floor points at the elevator and stairs, people are always coming and going. And I ain’t going to point it at your door, because then it becomes a security liability.”

“You could get another camera?” Rani suggested.

“And who’s going to pay for that?” he snorted at her. “Those things ain’t cheap, cause you got the camera, the wiring, the recording. For what, some paint on a door?”

“It’s more than paint,” she nearly shouted at him, “it’s the symbolism, the threat, behind it.”

“I gave you some vandal remover,” he moved to sit at his desk, “just be glad I’m not going to take this out of your deposit.”

Rani crossed her arms. “So you’re okay with the remover stripping the varnish off the door, when you could just stop this person from spray painting the door in the first place?”

“The door is an easier fix,” the man replied bluntly. “Now, I got to call a window repair man for the third floor, and then after that, plumbing problems on the seventh.” He grabbed a folder and his phone. “If you want to put in a police report, be my guest.”

Trying really hard not to roll her eyes, Rani took that as her cue to leave. She wasn’t going to get anything more out of him. Going to the police might be her only choice, but would they even investigate? They’d figure out she was ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., might even think she deserved the harassment. It may not be worth the hassle.

“Miss Feldman,” the landlord called out to her as she was about to leave. “I hear you got a new job at a… coffee house?”

“Bistro,” she corrected him.

“You’re not going to have any problem paying your rent, are you?” His words had that tone one uses when they are trying to be casual but failing miserably.

“No, no problems,” Rani surprised herself at how cool and calm she came off. 

“Good.” The little tilt of his jaw belied his words.

_I’m pretty sure he wanted me out, I wouldn’t bother to try to discern the reason. Maybe he thought I was HYDRA, or maybe he just hated S.H.I.E.L.D. Maybe he thought I was annoyance and he could get more rent out of my apartment._

_Not that it matters now anyway._

When Rani got back to her apartment, she sighed at the new swastika on her door. Its arrival that morning had led her to lodge another complaint with the landlord. Apparently she was going to have to deal with it herself.

As soon as she figured out how.

Grabbing the can of vandal remover, she sprayed some onto a dirty rag and wiped it at the paint. The stuff smelt like fingernail polish remover, only about fifty times stronger. But it did the job, it took off the paint as well as some of the varnish on the wood door. 

Rani had gotten into the habit of wiping down the entire square area so that it stripped the varnish evenly and didn’t look as bad. It also kept the image of the swastika from coming through as a void.

Her cellphone rang and Rani sat the rag down on a little stand she had next to the door for her keys and mail. Picking up the phone, she saw that Bernie was calling her. She thought this was odd as Rani’s part in the civil suit was over until it went to actual trial, and that’s only if they asked her to testify. The trial wouldn’t be for another month, probably.

“Yes?” Rani said as she answered.

“Rani, it’s Bernie,” the woman’s voice was clip, “I need you help me with something. How sharp are your Forensic Accounting skills?”

“Still pretty sharp,” Rani said with confidence. 

“Good,” she seemed a little relieved. “Can you come to my office?”

“Now?” Rani glanced over at the clock on her cable box. “It’s almost eight.”

“And I have to be in front of the judge at six am,” the lawyer replied quickly. “My usual number’s guy had a family emergency and I have a family that’s in an emergency.”

“Oh, okay,” she said a bit numbly. “The subway is still running, not sure about the bus route.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bernie gave a short chuckle, “I already sent a car for you, should be there in ten.”

Rani gave a laugh of disbelief. “Weren’t going to take no for an answer?”

“I’m a lawyer, I never take no for an answer,” she paused for a second, “unless that’s the answer I want.”

_You’ve probably heard a lot of things on the news about Bernadette Rosenthal. Some bad, some good. The truth is, she’s the kind of person who makes hate mongering news anchors angry._

_That alone is enough reason to like her._

“Sign this.” Bernie put a piece of paper and a pen in front of Rani. “It’s a confidentiality agreement, you will not discuss the client’s case or financials with anyone outside of this office.”

“Right,” Rani said as she scanned the paper, it looked pretty standard to her, “I’ve signed a few of these in my day.”

“Okay,” Bernie said after Rani signed the paper, “here’s the deal. I have a family of four who are about to be evicted from their home.”

“How come?” Rani knew there were several reasons why a person could be evicted from their residence. It can do with failure to pay rent or mortgage. It could be failure to abide by tenant rules such as having unacceptable pets, or not doing certain maintenance chores like mowing the lawn. 

“They’re behind on the mortgage,” Bernie grabbed a stack of files from the corner of her desk and moved them in front of Rani. “Cheryl, she’s been trying to keep her head above water but she’s getting a raw deal.”

“How so?” Rani pulled the top file and started to glance at it.

“Her husband died in the Fall,” Bernie said bluntly and Rani’s eyes quickly glanced up at her. “Cheryl lost her main source of income. Not only that, but she had an insurance policy on him, not through S.H.I.E.L.D., and the company won’t pay out.”

“Won’t pay out?” Rani scrunched her brows slightly and grabbed the file which had the insurance policy. “There’s no reason they shouldn’t,” she said as she scanned it. “It’s all pretty standard. He dies, they pay. She didn’t murder him nor was it suicide.”

“They’re just tying it up in red tape and nonsense,” Bernie gave a displeased growl. “Same with the military. Cheryl’s husband was in the Navy before joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. They’re blocking his pension payout.”

“This all seems unduly harsh.” Rani sat the folders back down. “Why are they doing it?”

Bernie frowned. “Because Cheryl’s husband, Deacon… was HYDRA.”

“What?” Rani blinked a few times.

“According to the leaked records,” Bernie explained, “about a year after Deacon was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. he was approached by HYDRA to join them. Cheryl is positive Deacon didn’t drink the Kool-Aid of global supremacy and racists overtones, but he apparently liked the perks.” Bernie shook her head. “I’m not sure which is worse, believing in HYDRA or just being apathetic.”

_That does bring up a philosophical question. I mean, HYDRA is bad, they are bad people, there is no getting around that. But at least they believe in something. Being apathetic while others do horrible things is… how can you stand by and just let it happen?_

_How can you care so little?_

“It’s not Cheryl, or her three kids’, fault that Deacon was HYDRA,” the woman continued. “Cheryl didn’t even know it was HYDRA, Deacon never gave her specifics of his new role. He said it was classified and she bought into it.”

“She liked the perks too?” Even Rani could admit her words came out a bit colder than she was expecting.

“With the pay bump, yes,” Bernie admitted, only giving Rani a slight tilt of her head. “They moved into her family’s old home, remodeled it. It’s a great school district, the kids are in high school now, the year just started. If they get kicked out, they’ll have to move schools.”

“So what you’re saying,” Rani took a second to think it all through, “is that the Navy and the insurance company are stonewalling payment because Deacon was HYDRA? That the family is going to lose their home because some people are punishing Cheryl for Deacon’s actions?”

“Cheryl trusted her husband,” Bernie replied as she shook her head, “that’s the only thing she’s guilty of. And she’s not the only person getting backlash for things out of their control. Family members of HYDRA agents, of suspected HYDRA agents... it’s like Frank McCurtain. The whole S.H.I.E.L.D.-HYDRA thing has given people the ability to paint targets on each other’s backs if it suits them.”

Rani couldn’t help but think of her family and everything they’d been having to put up with because she was ex-S.H.I.E.L.D “What do you need me to do?”

“Go through all of these records,” Bernie gestured to the pile of folders, “and find me something, anything, I can use to at least stall the eviction.”

“I can try,” Rani told her and pulled the pile closer to herself, “but I’ve been told I make a horrible witness now, being a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent myself.”

“You let me worry about that.”

_I can’t give you any specifics, nothing beyond what is public record. I can tell you, I was pretty proud of myself. It only took a few minutes for me to get back in the full swing of things. There is an art to Forensic Accounting, patterns of numbers and an organic nature of movement._

_I made Level Seven because I’m good at what I do… did… apparently even HYDRA saw the value in keeping me around._

_Yeah, I still don’t know how I feel about that._

Bernie texted Rani the following day saying it had worked. They were able to stall the eviction to give them some time to figure out what could be done. It didn’t look good though. While Rani did discover a loophole that Bernie could exploit to drag things out a bit, the rest was pretty black and white. 

No payment. No house.

“Tell me you have better news on your end,” Bernie said loudly enough for the conference phone to pick up her voice.

“We’re doing good,” a man replied via the speaker, “but so good we might end up settling this out of court.”

“Ah, Matt,” Bernie frowned. She had taken the call while Rani was there and she told Rani she didn’t have to leave.

“It’s a tough call,” Matt Murdock, a lawyer from New York City, said. He had a slightly raspy voice, like someone who had been screaming all their life. “We take it to court, we could easily lose on technicalities alone. Sure, it would give the bank really bad press, but our client and his family are going to be without the home he built.”

Apparently the foreclosure of the homes of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents was not an isolated event. The ones who weren’t picked up by the FBI and CIA, the families of those who died, were all facing some pretty dire straits. All of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s assets had been frozen, at least what could be found. These were the funds that paid out pensions, 401k’s, medical, and insurance policies. 

I didn’t keep my money with S.H.I.E.L.D. Was I smart… or just lucky?

“Bad press might be a stronger commodity,” Bernie argued. “We get public opinion on our side and even if we lose, we could start a GoFundMe and he could still keep his house.”

“There is no guarantee regarding public opinion,” Matt argued back. “I know DC is hurting, but New Yorkers feel betrayed. It was S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers that got us through the Incident.” She could hear him sigh over the phone. “I understand what you’re trying to do, Bernie. We need to set examples, to punish those taking advantage of the tragedy. I just don’t think this is the right case to do it.”

“You gotta do what’s best for your client,” Bernie said with a nod of understanding even though he couldn’t see it. 

“Foggy is speaking with another client tomorrow,” he told her, “this may be more what we’re looking for in regards to press and precedence. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“I appreciate it, Matt,” Bernie smiled, “and tell Foggy he still owes me a box of champagne truffles from Teuscher’s.”

Matt chuckled, “I’ll be sure to remind him.”

_Well, if you watch the news then you know Bernie got her precedence. It didn’t make the problems go away, but it’s a start. Bernie isn’t giving up, she’s going to see it through._

_It isn’t about fame, it isn’t about the money… it’s about making sure everyone is treated fairly and equally._

“Hey, Rani,” she looked over to see Tyler Popov sitting in one of the chairs of Bernie’s waiting room, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Tyler,” she gave him a polite smile, “nice to see you again but what brings you here?”

“Medicad, or Medicare, oh hell, I don’t know the difference anymore.” He grimaced as he moved too sharply to the left. “Lost my medical when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, lost my pension. Trying to get on disability, social security, or something.”

Rani frowned. “Are they stonewalling you?” 

“More like a Great Wall of China,” he snorted and then winced. “I haven’t had a checkup in over a year. I’m already missing bits of vital organs. The pain, don’t even ask.”

“Bernie will sort it out for you.” She offered him an optimistic smile. 

“I hope,” Tyler sighed. “I need to get the rest of the guys in here. Sean was scheduled for surgery a week after the Fall, that still hasn’t happened. Poor Norman,” he shook his head, “has diabetes, probably gonna end up losing his foot if he can’t get back on his medication.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rani said meekly. 

“Nah, I’m sorry,” he scratched at his eyebrow, “unloaded on you.”

“No, it’s fine.” Rani walked over and sat down next to him. “If you want to talk, I can listen.”

“Cheaper than a therapist?” He tried to laugh but it came out maudlin. 

“Something like that…”

_I honest can’t tell you what possessed me to talk to Tyler. To listen to his stories of the men at the shelter. Ex-Agents who slowly, or quickly, lost everything. He didn’t know much about the female agents, he never went by the women’s shelters, but he’d heard stories._

_If anything, it was even worse for the women. Even more worse for the minorities._

_I’ll give the human race one thing, at least we’re consistent in our repugnance._

Rani wanted to help but she didn’t know where to start. Her job gave her flexible hours but she still had to work at least fifty hours a week to make sure she could have enough to pay for rent and do the little things, like eat. 

Bernie had an accountant she used, but Rani knew S.H.I.E.L.D.’s system inside and out. The lawyer was more than happy to bring Rani in to help with all her S.H.I.E.L.D. related cases, which was most of them. She couldn’t really pay Rani beyond some free meals, but she was okay with it. Rani wanted to help out the families and ex-agents who were at a loss with the numbers.

It was the least she could do.

Hanukkah finally came and Rani spent the first day doing a double at work. The second day she got a little free time, only working the morning shift. So that evening she sat down with one of the cases Bernie had given her. 

The case was about a woman who had been ex-military before joining S.H.I.E.L.D. She was injured in the Fall and used up her savings on hospital bills. Her continuing rehabilitation was in question. Bernie was hoping to get the woman her VA benefits from being in the Army. 

_I’m so glad I didn’t get hurt beyond some scrapes and bruises. Truly, I came out pretty good. You’d think that would make me feel happy or relieved… you would think…_

Rani was nibbling on a bagel she brought from work when she heard a knock on her door. Confused, as she wasn’t expecting anyone and Lonette was out of town, Rani looked through the peephole. 

“Oy vey,” Rani mumbled before opening the door.

“MAMELLA.” Came the joint greeting from her parents. They nearly barreled their way in with a suit case and bags of unknown items. 

_My parents decided to surprise me for Hanukkah. Don’t get me wrong. I was happy to see them. But life was kind of a mess and I couldn’t really afford to take time off from work._

_Not to mention I still hadn’t told them the whole truth._

Her mother took over her tiny kitchen like a hurricane of cooking, whipping up her magical latkes and stocking the fridge with food to last until Purim. Rani felt bad though, between the funeral, the bistro, and helping Bernie, she had no time to shop for presents for her parents. 

“Oh please Rani, we don’t need presents,” insisted Beth. “Being with you is our Hanukkah gift this year.” That night they lit the second candle on the menorah and said the blessings. They then sat down to eat latkes with sour cream, anything else would be blasphemy. 

Her father silently went and grabbed a small box from his bag and put it in front of Rani. Inside was a bracelet tangled in gold Hebrew letters. A prayer for luck in hard times.

“Its beautiful,” Rani said as she slipped it on. “Where did you find it?” 

“This isn’t a gift from us,” her father explained. “This is a gift the Rabbi passed on. He said a little prayer goes a long way.” He smiled at her but then frowned just a little. “Our gift is not nearly this impressive.” 

Her mother handed her an envelope which held a blue card with “Happy Hanukkah” written on it. Inside was a message about seeing the light in the darkest of times, and three hundred dollars. 

Rani’s face hardened and she opened her mouth to argue. 

“Do not even think about doing anything other than saying thank you, Rani Feldman,” ordered Beth in her angry mom voice.

“But--” tried Rani. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Beth shook her head then pointed her index finger at her. “I want you to take this money and buy yourself something. You haven’t been taking care of yourself. I can tell. Buy yourself a watch, or use it to go to the movies a few hundred times, I don’t care. Just use it on you.” 

Rani ended up hugging her parents, mumbling, “Thank You,” a few times over.

_If it had been anyone else giving me that money I wouldn’t have accepted it. But I learned at the tender age of seven that arguing with my mother is pointless._

_So now I had a few extra hundred bucks and while my mom wanted me to spend it on myself… could I really do that? It doesn’t seem like a lot when you’re facing down bills, but to someone in need, it could make all the difference._

_And seeing my parents was great, but it reminded me that Hanukkah is a time of miracles and strength against the largest of evils._

Her parents only stayed two days and then Rani saw them off at the train station. She smiled and waved, part of her wishing she had went with them. Would it be a chance at a new beginning, or would it be giving up? She had made it this far, which is more than a lot of her fellow ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents could say.

Getting back to her apartment, Rani didn’t even realize she was doing it until she pulled out the lockbox from under her bed. She opened it up and stared down at the field notebook that was worth… a lot of money.

_They say money can’t buy happiness, but it can pay medical bills, cover mortgages, and put food in the mouths of the hungry._

_I’m not sure what gran would say, strike that, I know exactly what she’d say. She’d tell me that all life is worth fighting for. That you do what you have to, to help yourself and to help others._

_That if you’re given the means and opportunity… you do the right thing._


	10. The Numbers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

_Never argue numbers with an accountant._

“The book has providence and photographic evidence,” Rani pointed to a copy of a news article from the 90s. The story was part of the New York Times month long piece on the 50th Anniversary of Steve Roger’s death. It had a picture of her grandmother holding the field manual, open to the sketch. “That increases the value and you know it.”

“I’m still going to have to get it officially authenticated,” the man, one of the buyers at a rather prestigious auction house, could probably have been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent if he wanted to. He was playing like the book was barely worth more than the paper was written on. If Rani didn’t know better, she might have believed him.

“With providence, that’s hardly going to eat at your bottom line,” Rani tried to channel Bernie and all her confidence. It helped that they were talking math, Rani’s best subject.

Rani had taken a few days to think about it. It was hard and she had changed her mind three times before she finally agreed that it had to be done. 

_I always thought I would pass the book down, if I ever had kids. If being the key word there. It’s not like I’ve never had a boyfriend, it’s just I gave S.H.I.E.L.D. all my time, all my life._

_Kids are still an option, but I did put in my will that should I die I wanted the book donated to the Smithsonian. The only reason I hadn’t already given it to them on loan is because a) they have several pieces on display and b) I didn’t want to. I couldn’t quite let go of it, even if it was just sitting in my safety deposit box._

“Let’s be real here,” Rani crossed her arms and tried to mimic Bernie’s stance, “this book is not going to auction unless I want it to. You already have a buyer in mind who will pay more to buy this quick and anonymously than you could ever hope to get if I asked you to put it to auction.”

The thing about auctions is that they aren’t immediate, not when you have something as valuable as a Steve Rogers’s original WWII sketch book. An auction date is set a few months out so that the auction house can drum up interest to get the best price. The House takes a percentage and the seller gets the rest.

_I needed the money then, well, not me myself._

_And if there is one thing I learned from S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s how antiquities get moved around. I’m not going to tell you who I went to, but just know that the auction business is not all black market sales to launder money and fund terrorists. Though yeah, I’ve dealt with plenty of those cases at S.H.I.E.L.D.. You can find them on IsHeHYDRA._

_Anyway, serious collectors will spend serious money to stay out the public eye and get first pick at high value items. With Captain Rogers being discovered alive, you would think his work would have gone down in value since he can produce more. It only made the pre-death art go up. The art world is weird…_

“You drive a hard bargain,” the man said as they waited for their accounting department to cut the check. With how many zeroes were going to be on it, there was a lot of paperwork and taxes involved so Rani was okay with the wait. 

“I know what I have… had,” Rani tried not to wince. She had signed the contract, she handed over the book. She wouldn’t doubt that the man had already put in a call to a buyer when her back was turned. 

“It’ll go to a good home,” he tried to assure her, make sure she didn’t back out in that small window of time before she got the check, “to a collector who will value the item, keep it protected and safe.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she replied wryly.

_The auction house was going to get at least seven, if not ten, digits out of selling that book to a buyer who was just going to lock it up in a private collection where it’ll never see the light of day again._

_I know I’m doing the right thing though._

_Gran was given the book by Captain America after he saved her father and the village. Now that book is going to save the lives and homes of another village… of sorts._

The next day, Rani deposited the check in her bank. The lady behind the counter was a bit wary, like maybe it was fake, but it wasn’t going to bounce. Rani did take a very small portion of the total and transferred it to her savings, just to give herself back her breathing room.

As for the rest of it…

“Where did you get all this money?” Bernie looked at her with complete surprise on her face. Rani didn’t think anything could faze the woman.

Rani explained about the Captain America sketch and how she sold it to the auction house. 

“Wow,” the word was delivered somewhere between incredibility and awe.

“Here’s my issue,” Rani trucked on through, “ideally I should make the money work for me. Investments, savings, use it as a seed to make more money.”

“Ideally.” Bernie said the word slowly, waiting for Rani to get to the point.

“There are people who need this money right now,” a tremendous weight settled in her stomach as she spoke, “people about to lose homes, their lives… I… I don’t know where to start or where to stop.”

Rani could spend most of it now, there were people who needed it. She could wait just a bit, use the earnings to help those in need. She’d probably be able to help more people that way, but could she just ignore those she knew needed it now?

_This is why I respect people like Steve Rogers but I would never, ever, want to be him._

_Who do you save? It’s a horrible question._

“It’s your money, Rani,” Bernie told her with sympathetic seriousness. 

“So that makes it my decision?” Rani was hoping that Bernie would reply with a no, but the woman just continued to look at her, waiting. All Rani could say was, “I don’t want to make the decision.”

_Knowing what to do… and how to do it… are two different things… especially when people’s lives were at stake…_

“I can’t sit here and pick and choose,” Rani shook her head. “I can’t play with people’s lives like that. I…”

“Finish the sentence, Rani,” Bernie said softly when Rani paused.

“I want to help Tyler, and Harold, the others at the shelter,” Rani admitted, a sad tilt to her eyes. “I want to help Cheryl and her family. And Lydia, and the Bakers, and…”

“The people you know,” the lawyer pointed out.

“Is that wrong?” Rani asked her. “There are so many out there that need help. We’ve only seen the tip of it.”

“There are a lot people who need help, yes,” Bernie agreed with a sympathetic frown, “and the sad truth is that you can’t save them all.”

Rani bowed her head, trying not to cry. “I survived the Fall. I survived the Fallout. G-d was watching over me.”

_The idea had been simple, help people, but once I had the money in my hands, the means for change…_

“I want to give you the money,” Rani told Bernie, “then you can use it to help your clients.”

“I could,” the woman admitted, “but you’d only be doing that so you don’t have to make any real decisions, you realize that, right?”

“Deciding to sell the book was the hardest decision I’ve ever made,” as she said the words she realized what a lie that was. Yes, it had been hard to sell it. She had mulled it over endlessly. Giving up the book was difficult, but making the decision to sell it to help people had been easy. The hard part would be telling her mother. Something that could wait…a long while. 

“You’re an accountant, Rani,” Bernie took her hands, “and you’re a good person. Don’t think, just do what you feel what you need to.”

“What I want to do is run a cost analysis,” she admitted and the words were almost shameful. “Run it by the numbers. Take care of immediate issues and use the leftover as seed money to be able to create an influx of new funds for future ventures.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” Bernie nodded appreciatively. 

“But that’s assigning life a value,” Rani shook her head. “I can’t do it.”

“The value of a life cannot be measured,” the lawyer squeezed her hands, “but medical bills and mortgages can.”

Rani glanced up at her. “I won’t be able to help everyone who needs it, everyone who asks.”

“You think Captain America believes he can save everyone?” Bernie pointed out softly. “But that doesn’t stop him from saving everyone he can, and I’m sure that’s led to some tough choices. But I guess that’s why he’s a hero.”

“I don’t want to be a hero,” Rani told her.

“Then be an accountant.”

_I’m not much for being a hero, but accounting… accounting I can do._

The following day, Rani sat down and did her research. She already had most of what she needed from the case files Bernie had given her access to. But there were several people at the shelter who she needed to talk to. If she was going to help them, she needed to know exactly what medical bills and mortgages she was going to have to deal with.

Rani decided right off that she wouldn’t be paying off complete mortgages, at least not at first. She would make sure individuals were up to date so that would give Bernie time to sort out whatever the holdup was. This would create breathing room, which was something in short supply as of late. If she needed to cover another month, then she would, but that would hopefully be after the money started working for itself.

_It was important to keep families in their homes._

Medical cases were a bit trickier as there are so many different levels of medicine, surgeries, and rehabilitation that were required. Some of the individuals just had to get back on their medications which were too expensive to afford without health insurance. Again, she would do a month by month basis.

Those who needed surgery or hospitalization, she wasn’t going to fiddle with. She put aside a contingency fund and earmarked a certain percentage of the starting cash for immediate use. Rani took Harold straight to the hospital and got the doctors working on controlling his diabetes before he lost that foot. 

Almost immediately Rani set up a not-for-profit foundation as a means to disperse the funds.

_I named it the Frank McCurtain Foundation. I suppose I could I have named it after myself. Maybe I could have given it some fancy title like S.H.I.E.L.D. Defenders Initiative, I dunno, something like that._

_But this wasn’t about me, this was about protecting the victims of the fallout. People like Frank who didn’t deserve what happened to him. Who deserved better._

_That’s why the Foundation only helps those affected by the Fall. Perhaps later, if we get more funding, we can look to branching out to anyone who needs help. Part of me hates that I’m doing this, but the other part knows that the numbers can only stretch so far._

“That’s… that’s pretty amazing.” Agent Teller was sitting across from her at a small table in the bistro.

“It’s something alright.” Rani sipped at her coffee to avoid an awkward blush.

It had been just over a week since she sold the book and put together the Frank McCurtain Foundation. It had taken a lot of her time, dealing with the paperwork and accounting. Between that, the bistro, and helping out Bernie, she hadn’t had any time for herself. 

Not that she minded, it was good to be busy. It was distracting.

“You’re doing a great thing,” Teller said as he took a pull of his iced latte. 

The FBI agent had been in the area on work business again so he dropped in to say hi. Rani had only another half-hour on her shift, so he waited for her to finish. They then sat at one of the tables and chatted about some of the recent happenings in the news. 

Eventually she told him about the book and the Foundation she had set up.

“If this all works out.” Rani gave in to her fears. “I just started and so many things can go wrong.”

“That’s true with anything, though.” Teller shrugged and then smiled at her. “Hey, even if you only really help one person, that’s enough, right?”

_And yet you can never help enough people, funny how the math works out on that one._

Teller got a text on his phone and frowned. “I gotta get.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” Rani said and she actually smiled.

The man smiled back, but then it was followed by a confused frown. “This is awkward, I feel this should be awkward.”

“Well,” Rani matched his frown, “you did interrogate me.”

“To be fair,” he pointed his phone at her, “it was mostly my partner. I did, like, twelve percent of the interrogating.”

Rani chuckled, a cheeky smile forming across her lips. “Still a little awkward.”

“Maybe we can work on that,” Teller replied somewhere been hopeful and wistful. “See you around, Rani.”

“See you around, Teller,” she said as he stood. After he left, Rani realized she still didn’t know his first name.

_To be fair, he was right, he mostly just stood around as backup during the interrogations. He was the first one to believe I wasn’t HYDRA. Or at least that’s how it felt._

_It was still kinda awkward… but then when has anything been normal for me as of late?_

One of the cases Rani had been working on was an ex-Navy S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, Lydia, who had multiple surgeries on her leg and hip. She had fought against HYDRA during the Fall and sustained injuries. Her wounds were healed, but if she wanted to walk again she needed rehabilitation. With no insurance, no ability to get a job, she was literally stuck. 

Bernie had been trying to get disabilities and some VA benefits. They had a meeting at the VA center to hopefully sort things out. Rani went with them because she had the day off anyway and Lydia needed help getting around. Bernie was carrying the pile of files she was going to intimidate the VA people with, so Rani helped with Lydia.

The meeting went on for a bit and Rani didn’t really have much to do until it was over. “You guys want coffee?” she asked them.

Getting their orders, Rani went off in search for the breakroom which held the coffee and vending machines. A table was set up next to the vending machines which held the coffee maker. Unsurprisingly, it was out of coffee, so she started a new pot. As she waited, she decided to get herself something sweet as she was feeling drained. 

Digging a dollar out of her pocket, Rani slid it into the machine only to have it spat back out at her.

Rani wanted to reach up and grab it, but her body became lead as an oppressive wave of dread enveloped her. Her breathing became labored and her pulse raced for no reason that Rani could fathom. Well, except that this reminded her of…

THUNK

Somewhere down the hall, someone dropped something onto the floor. Didn’t matter what it was, just that it was heavy and landed with a resounding thud. It didn’t even sound like a gunshot but it made Rani near scream in fear. 

Stumbling backwards she couldn’t take her eyes off of her image reflected in the plastic front of the machine. The dollar bill dangling from the slot limply.

In the back of Rani’s mind, she knew she was overreacting, that this was ridiculous. She wasn’t in danger. No one was coming for her. It was a stupid vending machine which wouldn’t take her stupid effing dollar. 

Tears streaming down her face, she couldn’t make the fear stop. It assaulted her, feeding off her adrenaline and whispering to her every what if and could have been. She pounded her head back against the wall but even the pain wouldn’t make it stop. 

“Breathe, just breath,” she heard a voice say but even if she could take her eyes off the vending machine, she could barely see through the tears streaming from her eyes.

“It will pass,” the voice continued and a dark shape passed in front of her. “You need to breath.”

The offensive machine no longer in her line of sight, her eyes started to refocus on the man. He couldn’t have been much older than her, his face seemingly made for joy, but there was something older in his eyes. He stood an arm’s length in front of her and made no move to touch her. 

Putting his hand on his own chest, he took long, deep, breaths. She became mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest, finding herself starting to echo the movement. Breathing deeply, the anxiety didn’t go away but at least the panic had subsided. 

“I need out of here,” she mumbled hoarsely, “I need away from that thing.”

“Okay,” he didn’t even question her. He slowly raised his arm and pointed towards the door. “Exit is right there, and I’m right with you.”

Rani turned and numbly walked out of the small breakroom, barely registering where she was going. The stranger led her into a large room that had chairs lined up in rows and a podium. It was obviously some kind of meeting hall but it was empty. 

Rani nearly collapsed into one of the chairs, holding her head in her hands. “So stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he told her as he pulled out a chair to sit across from her. “Anxiety attacks happen. They suck, but you’re not stupid, or broken. It’s just part of the body’s response mechanism.”

“It’s a stupid vending machine,” Rani nearly shouted, kicking herself for being so weak. 

“Why is the vending machine stupid?” he asked as if he agreed it was stupid, but didn’t know why.

_That’s when it all started to click. The nausea, the anxiety, anytime I was around a vending machine…_

“It’s just a stupid vending machine,” she said again, trying not to cry any more than she already had. 

After a few moments of silence, the man introduced himself. “I’m Sam, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Rani,” she told him as she started to wipe at her nose and eyes with her sleeves.

“Don’t do that,” he said gently, “got some tissues right over there.”

Sam stood, but not too fast. He then retrieved the box of Kleenex from a table set against the back wall. When he returned, he didn’t get too close or enter into her personal space. He held the box out so she could take some tissues to clean herself up. Every action he took seemed to be deliberate as to not scare her or make her uncomfortable. This was obviously not his first rodeo.

“Do you want some water?” he asked after she blew her nose.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” she hadn’t realized just how much she cried. She must look like a mess.

He left to get her some water and she pulled out her compact. She was going to have to find a bathroom and start from the ground up if she wanted to be presentable when she rejoined Bernie and Lydia. Her eyes were puffy and her skin ashen. 

All because of a stupid vending machine.

“Here you go.” Sam returned with a bottle of water which she greedily drank from. He sat some papers on to one of the chairs next to her then sat back down.

“Thank you,” she managed to utter as she wiped some water that dribbled down her chin. “I’m sorry.”

“You got nothing to be sorry for,” he told her with a light, calming smile on his face. “Like I said, it’s a bodily response, it’s just going through the motions.”

“It’s never been this bad before,” Rani said mostly to herself.

“Sometimes we just have bad days,” he told her. “What have you been doing to treat your PTSD?”

Rani’s head snapped up. “I don’t have PTSD.”

He frowned, but not judgingly. “Then what did that vending machine do to upset you?”

“It…” she didn’t know what to say.

_It’s funny how some things can just hit you, you know, complete clarity where before you were shrouded in ignorance._

_And by funny I mean heartbreakingly devastating._

“I used to be an accountant, for S.H.I.E.L.D., but I’m not HYDRA.” Rani waited to see his reaction, if he would still be as nice and understanding. All she got was a gentle nod for her to continue, he didn’t care she was S.H.I.E.L.D.. “I was there, in the Annex, when the Triskelion fell.”

“And the vending machine?” he asked softly.

“I dunno,” she shook her head, trying to get the emotions out, “I was standing in the break room when the whole thing started, when… when people started dying.”

Rani tried not to think of her friend lying dead on the floor. Of the gun shots that rang out. Of seeing some random coworker laying slumped in his chair.

“The mind can make some interesting connections,” Sam explained. “Mostly it does it to try protect us, but it often doesn’t feel that way.”

Rani made a grunt of agreement. She felt drained and exhausted, downing the rest of the water.

“PTSD doesn’t come in the same shape and size for everyone,” he continued. “There are also several treatment options, or you could just avoid vending machines for the rest of your life. That’d probably get annoying though.”

“I don’t have PTSD,” she told him again.

He frowned. “You seem so sure.”

“Yeah,” she almost made a duh noise. “I’m not a solider. I wasn’t in a war.”

_But I did kill someone… it was self-defense… but I… I did it…_

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a soldier or how many battles you’ve been in,” Sam told her, leaning a little forward as one might do with speaking with a scared child. “It’s not about the numbers. Post-Traumatic Stress, from a Traumatic Experience. Singular, Plural, makes no difference.”

Rani looked down at her feet. “It’s just a stupid vending machine.”

“Everyone’s trigger is different.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Ah, man, I shouldn’t laugh but I knew a guy who was triggered by llamas. I kid you not. Oh, I am horrible.” He seemed to have recalled a memory and tried not to laugh.

“You are horrible,” she replied but couldn’t help but smile a bit. 

“He got through it though.” Sam regained his dignity. “There are a lot of treatment options. You just have to find what’s best for you.”

“I don’t really want to go to a shrink,” she confessed. She never had good experiences with them. Although they were the S.H.I.E.L.D. shrinks who had to do her clearance evaluations. There was also the fact that she just didn’t have the time for anything more at the moment.

“You don’t necessarily have to,” he told her as he took one of the papers he sat on the chair earlier and passed it to her. “Every Thursday, we have a meeting here, seven o’clock. We talk about our experiences. Share our progress. It’s a good way to learn what your options are.”

“I’m not a veteran. I’m here helping a friend,” she admitted as she glanced over the flyer which was a notice of all the meeting times. There were several, mostly in the evenings but a few daytime ones as well.

“Everyone’s welcome,” Sam assured her. “Though I’ve been fairly busy lately. I haven’t been able to attend the meetings as much as I’d like. But Derek, he’s a good guy, he’s been handling them and he won’t turn you away, I promise.”

As Rani considered his words, his phone softly buzzed and he pulled it out with an apologetic frown. He glanced at the message and looked at her. “I have to go, are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” she gave him an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine, if I avoid vending machines.”

“I’m serious though,” he looked at her intently, “I can get one of the other staff members in here to sit with you.”

_Sam was a pretty cool guy. He was a complete stranger but he wanted to make sure I was okay before he left. I had to promise I’d come to the next meeting before he would leave. I think he played me._

_I don’t mind though. I did go to the meeting and… and the Fall messed me up more than I ever realized._

_But that’s okay… because now that I knew what is happening to me, I could work on ridding myself of this horrible stain HYDRA left on my soul._

_I was going to take back my life… at least that was the plan._


	11. The Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)

_I never saw Sam again, I would have consider him my own personal Brigadoon if not for the fact that others knew about him. But Derek was a good guy, just like he said. I wasn’t sure about the other veterans though. A lot of these guys were in Iraq and Afghanistan. Two were Vietnam vets. I was just an accountant._

_How do you compare trauma?_

_Apparently… you don’t._

“Even when you’re trained for it, you’re expecting it,” Derek told her, “it doesn’t make it any easier once you’ve gone through it.”

Rani had been quiet the first two meetings she attended, electing to just watch and learn rather than share. She was never much for public speaking, let alone about a subject that would reduce her to tears. But on her third meeting, Derek convinced her to stand up and talk.

“My name is Rani, and I’m… an accountant,” she was too scared to bolt, so she continued on. “I used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., in the Annex, and I was there when HYDRA revealed themselves…”

Derek gave her a reassuring nod when she paused.

“I… I killed my boss,” the words just fell out of her and her body went cold with the shock of it. “He was going to shoot me.”

_I still don’t know what possessed me to say it. Maybe it was because I was in a room full of strangers. Strangers can’t judge you like family can._

The less Rani was trying to say, the more she spoke. She told them about Wilkerson, about the random bodies she had to step across to leave. The swastika’s on her door and being called a Nazi. Then came the story of Frank, of how he was basically abandoned to die. 

Rani even told them about the book and how she was sorry she couldn’t do more. 

Afterwards, she thought she was going to run away. There was no way she should be there, not among actual soldiers. Actual heroes.

“You poor girl,” one of the men said a touch above patronizing. 

“Poor girl my ass,” another one snorted. “She reacted better than half my squadron mates would have.”

“You are not getting over that,” a third man replied to the second.

“Oh hell no,” he crossed his arms and everyone else gave knowing smiles. “Stupid ferrets.”

That broke the ice, and the group asked her some questions. Nothing too intrusive, they seemed to know where the lines were, when to push, and when to hold back. They gave her suggestions, ways to cope if she wasn’t keen on going to a physiatrist. Of course, that was recommended as sometimes you just need someone to talk to.

_It was like a Band-Aid, suddenly it wasn’t just about the spirituality of things. I had accepted that G-d could forgive me. But it was only then did I realize that I needed to forgive myself and to come to grips with the effect that the incident had on me._

“You should totally vlog it,” one of her employees mentioned one day.

“Excuse me?” Rani frowned at the sixteen year old girl, Brittany. 

“Yeah,” Brittany replied as she mixed a smoothie, “get a camera, talk about what happened, post it YouTube.”

“That seems a bit… public.” Rani continued to frown.

“Yet it’s completely anonymous.” Brittany grinned. “You’re talking to strangers, people who can’t judge you. Well, as long as you don’t read the comments because apparently that brings out the worst in people. And you also get to control the narrative. It’s the ultimate cathartic experience.”

“I’ll, uh,” Rani tried not to shake her head, “I’ll take that under advisement.”

_Well, here we are then. Mom, Dad, let’s hope you missed this in your weekly search for sitcoms._

_Truly though, with the Foundation up and running and the weight of events off my chest, things were looking pretty good. I was feeling better, calmer. I was actually getting sleep._

“Rani Feldman?” the voice on the other end of the phone said when she answered her cell.

“Yes? Who’s calling?” Rani replied, a little stunned the woman pronounced it right.

“Hi, my name is Marie and I’m calling from the HR Department of RedSand Tech,” she continued on swiftly. “We saw that your resume was still posted. Are you still looking for a job because we’d like you to come in for an interview?”

To be honest, Rani had forgotten all about having her resume posted on the job sites. She had pretty much given up because of HYDRA. “I am, but I did work for S.H.I.E.L.D.. I’m not HYDRA though…”

“I can see where some might take issue with that,” the woman had barely taken a breath. “We saw that and it doesn’t bother us one bit,” she was almost cheery. “In fact, we think someone with that kind of background would fit in here perfectly. We are a global firm with several secondary corporations. Sounds like something you’re used to?”

“It does, actually,” Rani tried not to be wry.

“Good,” the smirk could be heard over the phone, “shall we set up an interview?”

Two days later, Rani was sitting in a small conference room at the DC office of RedSand Technologies. They were a research firm, specializing mostly in silicon tech. They had an office in California, of course, and one in Japan. These were the companies under the RedSand Tech logo, they had controlling interests in several other firms across the world.

“We do some research here,” the RedSand CFO, Larry Milton, explained, “but mostly we’re the administrative branch. We keep track of personnel, handle global contracts, accounting, document management, archiving, that kind of thing.”

Rani nodded her understanding, smiling lightly, trying not to get her hopes up.

“We have an opening in our accounting department,” Larry continued, “specifically in our North America sector.”

He continued to talk and explain what her job duties would be. She assured him that she had experience in most of what he was asking. There was the usual back and forth, a nice casual dialogue.

“Do you have any other questions for me?” he asked as the interview wound down.

“We’ve pretty much went over everything already,” she smiled to cover her nerves, “but I wanted to make sure that my past work history isn’t going to cause a problem.”

“The way I look at it,” Larry smiled at her, “there is no way all of S.H.I.E.L.D. was HYDRA, it’s a logistical improbability. So, if you were cleared by the FBI, then all I care about is if you can do the job.”

“I will do my best,” Rani told him, finally feeling vindicated for all the times she had to preface her job history with ‘I’m not HYDRA’. 

_So yeah, that’s how I got a job at RedSand Technologies in their accounting department. Starting pay was comparable to what I had been making with S.H.I.E.L.D. and well above the bistro. Nine to five hours and no more coffee smells…_

_But this caused a kink in what was becoming my routine. Which in turn gave me an idea._

“You want me to do what now?” Tyler was sitting in the conference room with Rani and Bernie.

“We want you to head the Foundation,” explained Rani. “Be in charge. You have the necessary people skills and you’re more than qualified.” 

Tyler knitted his brow. “So you want me to run the Foundation?”

“Basically,” Rani admitted with a half-smile. “Someone has to keep track of the beneficiaries. Who gets what, that kind of thing. I’ll take care of the accounting, but it’s the people I’m not very good with.”

“You realize I’m not any more qualified than you,” he pointed out with a frown.

“You know people,” Bernie told him. “You can talk to them, you can sympathize with them. That’s most of the job right there. Rani and I will still be board members so you won’t be in this alone.”

“Now,” Rani cleared her throat, “as Director, you’ll get a salary.”

“A salary?” Tyler’s eyes went a little wide.

“Yes,” Rani nodded and grabbed a piece of paper from her file. “We can do it weekly, bi-weekly, or monthly but I think this is a reasonable starting salary.” She passed it over. “In a year we can renegotiate based off of how well the portfolio is doing.”

“This… this gets me out of the shelter,” Tyler said as he rubbed at his chin. “I can actually live on my own again.”

“That was the idea,” she smiled just a little. “It’s gonna be a lot of work though. Lots of paper work plus meeting with potential donors.”

“Right,” he nodded and continued to look at the paper as if it wasn’t real, “it can’t be any harder than a spec op. At least no one will be shooting at me.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Bernie chuckled, “I’ve been to some pretty dicey fundraising dinners.”

Rani and Tyler both laughed, but then Tyler said, “Why are you asking me? Why don’t you do it, Rani?”

“Sure,” Rani told him. “I could dedicate myself full time to the Foundation, but I already have a job. The point of the Foundation to help people who are stuck because of the Fall.” 

“So why quit your perfectly good job,” he nodded as it clicked, “when you can give a job to someone else.”

“Someone much more qualified than me to do it, too,” Rani made sure to emphasize that point. “You’re good with people, okay with being the center of attention, and you’re a good person. You have much more experience than I ever will.”

“Not that great at math though.” Tyler frowned but there was a little hint of a grin in it.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Rani smiled at him.

Bernie gave a little laugh. “I’m here to supply all the crap coffee you could ever hope to need.”

 _You know, that was an interesting point. Bernie is a great lawyer, great person, so why does her coffee always taste like there’s dirt_ and _soap in it? Now there’s a mystery for the Avengers to solve._

With the Foundation sorted out, Rani was free to take on the job at RedSand Technologies without worry of confliction. She had her nine to five job which wasn’t nearly as demanding as S.H.I.E.L.D. had been. She could come home at a decent hour, cook a good meal, and actually relax. 

“You should figure out when you can start taking vacation,” Lonette told her as they sat in Rani’s living room after gorging on some home-made waffle cake, with boiled condensed milk goodness. “Your birthday is in two weeks. You should book a spa retreat, or something equally frivolous, pamper yourself.”

“I didn’t even do that when I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D..” Rani was trying to think back to her few vacations. “Though I wouldn’t mind spending a day or two going through the Smithsonian again.”

“Sure,” Lonette was grinning, trying not to laugh, “If that’s what relaxes you.”

“More like calms me,” Rani stifled her own laugh. “There is just something peaceful about the exhibits, and history, and science.”

“Whatever works,” the woman said as she raised her glass in the air.

Rani’s phone started to ring before she could respond. She picked it up off the table and saw the caller ID which said _Brendon Teller_. “Agent Teller?”

“The guy from the funeral?” Lonette frowned thoughtfully.

“Only Teller I know of,” she quickly added, “other than the magician.”

She wasn’t sure if she should answer it, but he was an FBI agent. It could be important? Or not.

“Rani,” she said after she hit answer and put it on speaker.

“Rani, hi, it’s me, Agent Teller,” he didn’t sound stern or anything, so that was a good sign. “Sorry if this might seem inappropriate but I didn’t know how to else to get ahold of you. Apparently you don’t work at the bistro anymore?”

“Ah, no,” Rani looked to Lonette who just shrugged. “I got a new job, I finally got hired as a real accountant.”

“That’s great,” he replied then let out a half-nervous laugh. “Well, um, the reason I called is because I found out about an AC/DC concert on Thursday and I kind of thought of you.”

“Oh, well, I do love AC/DC.” Rani couldn’t remember how they had gotten onto the topic, but she had told Teller it was one of her favorite bands during one of their chats. 

“Do you wanna come with?” he asked then immediately slid into saying, “I mean, I understand if you don’t. The whole situation is a bit awkward, but I really want to work on that. You know, be friends. If… if you do.”

“Uh…” Rani honestly didn’t know what to say. Teller had just been doing his job that day after the fall, he didn’t hold anything personal against her. He seemed like a decent guy. Not perfect, but willing to accept when he’s put his foot in his mouth.

“He’s cute,” Lonette pointed out in a low whisper.

“What was that?” Teller asked.

“Nothing,” Rani quickly covered and took the phone off speaker.

“Do it,” Lonette whispered again, making a shoo gesture with her hands.

“So, what time are we talking about here?” Rani asked before she could stop herself.

A few minutes later and she had set up a date-not-date with Teller. It would mean missing one of her PTSD support group meetings, which had become her version of therapy. But knowing the regulars, they would have harangued her for not going out.

“Why did I agree to this?” Rani was staring at her phone blankly.

“Because you haven’t been on a date in for-ev-er,” Lonette seemed to feel the need to stress the word, “and you love AC/DC. And he’s paying so it’s like a birthday present to you. So it’s a win-win.”

“It’s not really a date,” Rani pointed out, meekly.

“Close enough, it’s a pre-date,” Lonette explained. “It’s where you figure out if the guy is datable or better off a friend. Again, win-win.”

_I should know by now that she is never wrong._

_I had a great time. For starters, they played all my favorite songs. And I swear, Cliff Williams looked right at me. I am so glad I went._

_But as for the agent, he was pretty cool. He didn’t try to force the ‘date’ aspect of the pre-date. We went dutch on dinner, though he did buy the coffee afterwards. We chatted, he was so easy to talk to._

_I would definitely classify him as datable material… even if he was Lutherian._

_It was still too early and we were working through the awkwardness. After all, he had to look in my FBI file to find my phone number. But that wasn’t nearly as creepy as it could have been if he had just shown up at my door to ask me for a sorta-date. So yeah, a non-platonic relationship was not something that was going to happen overnight._

_But by the end of that night I was totally okay with at least being friends._

__“There’s another band I’d think you’d like playing on Sunday,” Teller said before she got out of his car. He was the only person she knew who drove regularly. “Would that be too early to do this again?”_ _

__Rani could hear Lonette screaming DO IT in her ear, metaphorically speaking. “Yeah, sounds good.”_ _

__“Great,” he smiled, “I’ll text you the details.”_ _

__“Alright,” she returned the smile, “goodnight, drive safe.”_ _

__“Goodnight, Rani,” he told her and then waited to make sure she got inside her building before driving off._ _

__Rani wasn’t so much blissful or on cloud nine, but she was relaxed. The Foundation was starting to pick up as Tyler had settled in quite well. She had a new job doing the thing she loved doing, that she was good at. She had the support of a dozen or so veterans who gave her tips for actually getting a full night’s sleep. And she at least made a new friend in Teller._ _

_And then the past comes back to haunt me, somewhat literally._

__Flipping on the lights, Rani tossed her keys onto the table next to the door, shutting and locking it. She was looking down at her phone because Teller had already texted her the details of their next date-not-date. This is how she got five steps without noticing someone else was in the apartment with her._ _

__Rani let out a started yelp and jumped back, only to see who it was sitting in one of the chairs that flanked her sofa. “Agent Coulson?”_ _

__“Surprise?” Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Phil Coulson smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you, but I guess it was unavoidable.”_ _

__“You think?” Rani was trying to get her pulse and breathing back to normal from the spike of fear and adrenaline. It was then she noticed the two others in the room. Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Melinda May was standing off to the side. A brunette woman Rani didn’t recognize was sitting at her dining table in front of a laptop. “Why did you break into my apartment?”_ _

__Coulson frowned. “What, no, aren’t you supposed to be dead?” He turned his head to May. “They always ask why am I not dead?”_ _

__“Level Seven Accountant,” Rani reminded him with an utterly unamused expression. “Who do you think handled the accounting nightmare that was your payroll, pension, and insurance after you ‘died’ and came back to life?’_ _

__“You know,” he tilted his head, “I didn’t notice any problems or abnormalities.”_ _

__“Exactly.” Rani took another slow, controlled breath and she seemed to have calmed down. “Why are you here?”_ _

__“You’re not going to ask if I’m HYDRA?” Coulson frowned again. “That’s always the second question.”_ _

__Rani was seriously tempted to throw something at him. “I saw the way you looked at my original Steve Rogers sketch. If you’re HYDRA, you have serious issues.” He opened his mouth, then nodded that she wasn’t wrong._ _

__“You’re Melinda May,” Rani continued, turning to the woman. “If you were HYDRA, then they’d probably would’ve succeeded in whatever they were trying to do and we’d all be screwed.” May agreed with a lot more of a sensible and stern nod._ _

__“And I don’t know who that is,” Rani pointed to the woman at the laptop, “but I’m guessing she’s okay if she’s with you.”_ _

__The brunette gave her a slow and sarcastic thumbs up. “Thanks.”_ _

__“See,” Coulson looked over at May, “told you she was smart.”_ _

__“I never argued that she wasn’t,” May never took her eyes off of Rani, “but it’s not about intelligence. It’s about being able to pull off the mission.”_ _

__“Mission?” Rani did not like that word when it was spoken by ops agents possibly in reference to her. “What’s going on?”_ _

__“S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t gone, Rani,” Coulson told her, “It just went underground.”_ _

__“Are you still paying your taxes?” Rani was starting to get nervous and that just kinda popped out of her mouth._ _

__Coulson went to say something, then paused. “That’s a good question. I’ll have to look into that.”_ _

__Rani almost replied with ‘I know a good accountant’ but stopped herself. She was out of S.H.I.E.L.D., she was out from working for clandestine groups. She had a regular, stable, sane job. Her life was settling back down into something where she could finally feel like she was moving forward._ _

__“Right, the mission.” Coulson got back on track. “We need your help, Rani.”_ _

__“My help?” Rani frowned at him. “Do you need me to look over some financials? Trace something?”_ _

__“No,” he replied with the almost smile that was often on his face, “we need you to steal private company documents from your employer, RedSand Technologies.”_ _

__“What?” she laughed incredulously. “I’d lose my job. Why would I help you steal from them?”_ _

__The smile dropped from Coulson’s face into something more… unfortunate. “Because we have reason to believe that RedSand Tech is a front.”_ _

__She was afraid to ask. “A front for who?”_ _

__“HYDRA.”_ _


	12. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this.  
> It will be worth the wait, I promise!

_I wanted to shatter, but that old feeling of numbness took over. It felt like a slap in the face, another harsh dose of a reality I really didn’t need. Why couldn’t HYDRA just die in a fiery pit and choke on its own tyrannical, genocidal, idiocy?_

“HYDRA?” Rani blinked several times. “What do you mean it’s a front for HYDRA?”

“Skye,” Coulson called over to the woman at the laptop.

“So,” the woman, Skye, started to type at her laptop, “we took some encrypted files off of a server at a known HYDRA base last month. Lots of your basic neo-Nazi, wanna take over the world, kind of stuff. The usual self-confabulatory crapola.”

“Skye,” Coulson tilted his head like a disappointed father.

“Right,” she cleared her throat, “I discovered several HYDRA funded research firms. Four of which were absorbed by RedSand Technologies a week after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.”

“Okay,” Rani gave an awkward smile, “I admit, that seems suspicious. But how do you know RedSand isn’t just opportunistic?”

“That’s what we’ve been doing the past month,” Coulson told her. “The CEOs of the absorbed firms, known HYDRA members who have gone missing by the way, have connections to several RedSand board members.”

“Couldn’t that just be the nature of the research business?” Rani asked, hoping that the agent had it wrong. 

“Considered that,” he nodded at her. “We’re fairly certain that the CEOs of RedSand are either HYDRA or HYDRA sympathizers based on other evidence. But we don’t know how far those roots extend. Could be the top brass, or all the way down the mail room clerk.”

“They hired me,” Rani said as she put her hand on her chest. “I’m not HYDRA, in fact, I’ve been pretty vocal that I’m not.”

“Which is exactly why we can’t be sure,” Coulson gave her a sympathetic frown.

_I still hate that sympathetic frown._

“I know you’re not HYDRA, Rani,” he continued, the frown turning into something of a smile, “never even considered you might be. But if the heads of the company are HYDRA then there has to be more of them.”

“I… suppose…” Rani couldn’t argue the logic. 

“There could be more good guys than bad,” Coulson shrugged, “we just don’t know. So before we send in strike teams, we need to make sure we get the right people. It needs to be precise, or else it could turn into another Triskelion.”

Rani winced at the mention of the Fall. “Why me? Why DC?”

“Your office is the main hub,” he told her simply. “We get in there, we can get the internal records for all of the North America offices for all the shell corps, not just RedSand. We need you to get us access to those records.”

“Why don’t you just… hack it?” Rani finally pulled off her coat and threw it on the sofa as she was feeling stuffy and constricted. 

_In the back of my mind, all I could hear was a whisper that I had done it again. HYDRA, I ended up working for HYDRA… again…_

“Tried that,” the one named Skye said. “The surface stuff I could get to. I found and confirmed a few HYDRA there. But there are internal storage servers not connected to the internet. We’re thinking this is where the juicy stuff is.”

Rani frowned, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “I’m not a hacker. I don’t know what I can do.”

“You don’t have to hack anything,” Coulson assured her. “We only need you to put a Wi-Fi receiver in one of the servers, Skye will take care of the hacking.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Rani creased her brow, wondering why she was even considering what they were asking.

“Ah, well,” he gave a slightly awkward chuckle. “You just need to find your way down to the server room, put the Wi-Fi receiver in a USB slot, and you’re done.”

“Simple as that?” she replied dryly.

“She’s not an ops agent,” May reminded Coulson for her. “I think it’s better if we sent one of us in.”

“You’ve seen their security.” Coulson looked at her pointedly. “They know who we are. We get spotted, the whole place locks down and people get hurt. Rani is already on the inside, they think she’s harmless.”

“Because I am harmless!” Rani nearly shouted. “And I’m not an agent, not any more. I’m an accountant.”

“Rani,” Coulson sighed and leaned forward in the chair, “S.H.I.E.L.D. has always been about protecting people. HYDRA may have infested it, but that’s always what it stood for. Why I joined, why you joined, why we all joined.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gone,” she reminded him though her words came out weak. 

“And you’re still protecting people,” he replied softly. “We know all about your Foundation. Your work with Rosenthal.”

Rani thought about it for a moment. It had always been about doing the right thing. 

“You realize,” she cleared her throat, “that there is no way I come out on top in this. If RedSand is mostly HYDRA, then the company is gone and I’m back to where I started. If RedSand is mostly not HYDRA, even if it manages to stay together, I’m out of a job.” Her words didn’t sadden her as much as she thought they would.

“Yes.” Coulson remained neutral, perhaps a sad tint to his eyes. “You can say no, Rani, no one is going to make you.”

“You know that’s not true.” Rani shook her head lightly before setting up straight. “Now that I know RedSand is a HYDRA front, how big or small, I can’t work for them anymore. Not to mention you’ll take them down whether I help or not.”

Coulson nodded then sat there as if he was waiting for her to get to the destination he had pushed her towards. He had to have known how she’d react to the news of RedSand and HYDRA. That Rani wouldn’t want anything to do with RedSand anymore. She might as well sacrifice her job now and help others.

“For a dead guy,” Rani said dryly, “you’re a real jerk. You know that?”

He grinned at her. “It’s come up in conversation.”

_I can’t tell you all the specifics, who the agents were, etc. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this much to be honest, but yeah, the RedSand leak… that was me._

Rani drug herself into work the following morning. She didn’t bother to straighten her hair, just tied the curly mass back. 

“Late night?” the guard asked as she went through the security checkpoint.

“Yeah,” she replied truthfully. 

He chuckled at her and waved her through the metal detector. Her purse went through the x-ray machine without issue. Rani thought that they were just paranoid of corporate espionage. Now she wondered if this was from fear of getting caught out as HYDRA. 

Grabbing her bag, she headed to the elevators. It was pretty crowded that early so she decided she’d take the next elevator as it filled up. It was typical of her to be polite like that. Coulson and May both said it was important to act normal, like it was any other day. 

“Morning,” a voice said beside her.

“Oh, ah,” Rani startled, her nerves turning her into a bit of a wreck. 

“Late night at the AC/DC concert?” Larry laughed at her as he pushed the up button which she had already pushed. 

“Yeah.” It was a good enough excuse for her being edgy and tired. 

“Then it was a good concert,” he said as the elevator door opened and he gestured for her to go inside. 

Rani tried to smile then shuffled into the elevator. She had been up late as Coulson and Skye explained to her what they needed her to do. They also showed her the evidence they’d gathered that proved the executive branch was full of HYDRA affiliates. This included the Chief Financial Officer, her boss.

“Did they play Shoot to Thrill?” he asked her as they waited for the elevator to go up. 

“Yeah.” Rani tried to focus on the concert and those memories. “Iron Man did a flyby.”

“Huh, nice,” he smiled and for a moment she forgot Larry was HYDRA and how badly she wanted to ask him why he hired her. He had to have known that she wasn’t HYDRA, he even said that he knew every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent couldn’t have been a double agent.

The elevator dinged for her floor and Rani gave a half wave and said, “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” he smiled again as the elevator door closed. 

Rani was going to be sick.

Getting to her office, she sat in her chair and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. Taking several deep breaths, she let the nausea pass. 

One of her coworkers popped his head in her door. “You alright?”

“Yeah, Marcus.” Rani took another deep breath and straightened herself. “Why they even book concerts on a Thursday night is beyond me.”

“Money is money,” he said with a laugh. “Hey, you got the last quarter numbers for Western Europe?”

“Yeah, I’ll email them to you,” she told him as she logged into her computer. 

The rest of the morning went about as normal as Rani could manage. Anyone who wondered why she was a little out of sorts, she just blamed it on the late night. It helped that no one ever really looked twice at her. 

When it got to lunch time, she started a little earlier than usual. The building had a commissary, she would normally go down and get a sandwich and soup so that’s what she did. She pulled out the book she had been reading and tried to at least pretend to be interested in it. Once she was finished eating and lunch time was in full swing, she ‘went into action’.

Following the ops agents advice, Rani threw away her trash and headed out, book in hand. She pretended to read as she walked down the halls, avoiding the random people wandering around. Getting into the elevator, she pushed the wrong floor button, pretending she just didn’t notice as she read. 

The doors opened on the server room floor and Rani, nose in book, started walking down the hall. They had showed her a map of the floor, but it was okay if she got lost. If anything, that would sell the infiltration better. Or so they told her. 

A few turns later and Rani realized she was ‘lost’. She looked around and kept walking, but the walls were white and devoid of most signs. She found a door that was propped open, which was odd because it was a security door with a triple key lock. 

Skye had gotten video of the hallway for the past two weeks and discovered a gap in the security. She said the technical term was ‘lazy people’.

“Hello?” Rani pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room wasn’t as clean and sterile as she was expecting it to be. Perhaps she had watched too many movies. There were racks and rows of server banks, cables and wires hanging haphazardly around. True, there wasn’t much in the way of dust or grim, but it didn’t look like a ‘clean room’ either. 

Walking around, pretending to call out to see if anyone was there, Rani pulled the wireless receiver out of her pocket. She held it close, just as Coulson had showed her. Then walking through a bank of servers, Rani found one of the ports Skye told her would work. 

_I don’t know how I didn’t tremble and fumble with the receiver. I am not really built for this spy stuff. I suppose it was because they told me exactly what to do. I can follow directions really well. Improvising, yeah, that is not in my operating program._

“Who’s there?” a voice called out.

“Oh, hey,” Rani walked back around the server bank and got all embarrassed. That was probably the easiest part of the mission. “I am so lost.”

The man, a tall and lanky fellow who looked like an IT geek, greasy hair and all, frowned at her. He was carrying a plastic container that looked to be holding spaghetti and meatballs. Probably just heated it up if the condensation on the plastic was any indication. “Who are you?”

“Rani Feldman, accounting,” she said, awkwardly pointing at her badge. “I think I got off on the wrong floor.”

Eyeing her warily, the IT guy walked over to his desk. Sitting down the container, he tapped at his keyboard for a solid minute.

Rani cleared her throat. “If you can just show me the way back to the elevators...”

He said nothing, just kept tapping away, and glancing up at her. Eventually he sighed and shook his head. “Turn left, head down to the second right, elevators are at the end.”

“Great, thanks.” Rani smiled awkwardly and walked out of the room. 

_This is why the team wanted me to do it. They didn’t have to go in and fake anything that could get flagged. I was a legit employee. I also play awkward and embarrassed really well._

Rani found her way back up to her office as if she had innocently gotten lost. She sat at her desk and did her work. Every time someone she didn’t recognize came near, she tensed a bit. If they found the wireless receiver then she was likely the first suspect. 

When it finally turned to five, she grabbed all her things. She hadn’t left much personal stuff at the office, mostly because she hadn’t been there long enough to really accumulate a hoard. But also, a part of her remembered the Fall and what it was like to have so much lost. It was just a matter of shoving a few things into her bag and she could walk out of the office with no intention of coming back.

She still expected to be stopped as she left, but no one looked at her twice as everyone piled out of the building. Apparently they hadn’t found the wireless receiver. It didn’t matter, Skye said she only needed about fifteen minutes to get what they needed. 

Rani got back to her apartment to find Coulson waiting for her.

He gave her a smile. “You want the good news or the not so good news first?”

“I really don’t care,” Rani replied as she threw her keys on the side table next to the door.

“Good news it is then.” He continued to smile. “It looks like it was mostly the higher level individuals who were HYDRA. Pretty much everyone below management level was just hires. That’s the larger portion of the company.”

Rani was somewhat pleased by this news. It meant all her coworkers were not HYDRA and it was doubtful she was hired for any reason other than she was a damn good accountant. “And the not so good news?”

“RedSand Tech is going down.” Now he frowned slightly. “Not sure how messy it’s going to be. We’ll be handing over the information we have to the FBI and NSA. The company is going to lose its entire top brass. It’s probably going to fold.”

“Do you know when this will happen?” Rani asked him as she sat down on her sofa.

“Soon,” he said with a little nod of his head. “Once they discover the hack they’ll scatter. So the Feds will want to move in quickly, before that can happen.”

“I wonder if there will be time for the last payroll to go through,” Rani replied somewhat darkly. Rani tried not to make it about herself, she really did, but how could she not?

First S.H.I.E.L.D., now RedSand. 

“You did good, Rani,” Coulson said as he came over to her. “I know you’re not a spy, and I asked a lot of you, but you really stepped up. Steve Rogers would be proud.”

Rani glanced up at him. “It’s really hard not to take that as patronization.”

“Sorry.” But he nodded in agreement, then pulled a card out of his pocket. “I doubt RedSand or HYDRA will care about you, but if you feel your life is in danger, call this number.”

“Thanks,” she said wryly as she took the card. It was simple white cardstock with a number written across it. She didn’t recognize the area code.

“No, thank you,” he replied and headed towards the door before stopping. “Oh, and I was never here. I’m still dead.”

Rani raised her brow. “How’s that working out for you?”

Coulson frowned slightly, “Not very well.”

With that, he was gone. Rani spent the evening and Saturday watching the news, waiting to hear how things went down. It wasn’t until Sunday morning that the news hit. Over the night, FBI agents had raided RedSand offices and many of the executives were taken into custody on suspected HYDRA ties. 

_RedSand was dissolved, and they are still dealing with the mess. I didn’t even try going back into work on Monday. I know the government protects whistleblowers, but I didn’t want any part of that shite-storm. I just wanted to move on with my life, again._

Later that Sunday after the RedSand raid, Rani found herself standing outside of a popular music venue. Teller had texted her that morning. He had heard about RedSand and wanted to make sure she was okay. She told him she was fine, she would talk to him later before the show.

“Rani,” Teller said as he saw her and came over. “How you doing?”

“You already asked me that,” she said with a frown.

“You just discovered that your company was HYDRA.” He frowned back at her. “I imagine that’s a bit of a shock.”

“It was.” Rani nodded and pulled her coat a little tighter. It wasn’t particular cold but the wind was breezy. “How long did you know?”

Teller tilted his head slightly. “Sorry?”

“How long did you know about RedSand?” Rani asked again clearly. “That they were a HYDRA front?”

“I heard yesterday about the raid—”

“That’s not an answer,” she cut him off, her muscles tightening to keep from trembling. “You knew when you called me. Didn’t you.”

He let out a little puff of breath. “Rani…”

“My bank account was being monitored, wasn’t it?” Rani finally put it out there. The truth that came to her that morning after getting the text from Teller. “You just happen to run into me after the large deposit from my savings for Frank’s funeral. You ran into me again after I deposited the money from the book I sold. Then you called me after I got my first check deposited from RedSand. And this time you wanted to start hanging out.” She never took her eyes of Teller, hoping that she had read it wrong. “Were you looking for an inside man? An asset?”

Perhaps he wasn’t that great of a liar, or maybe he didn’t have the heart to try, but his eyes fell slightly and she had her answer.

Rani let out a half laugh, shaking her head and willing the tears not to fall.

“Rani,” he said as he started to step forward, his right hand out.

“Don’t touch me,” Rani said sharply, her voice carrying to those around them.

Teller backed off, his hands held out wide and nonthreatening. The few who heard her watched them for a moment. Some quickly carried on but a couple looked ready to jump in.

_Strangers willing to help a stranger…_

“Yes,” Teller finally said. “We have all ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on our watch lists. It’s just SOP, you know that.”

She gestured between them. “Is this SOP?”

“I volunteered to do the follow ups because I knew you were a good person.” Teller kept his distance but his words got a bit more intense. “I was right.”

The blood seemed to drain from Rani, her body becoming sluggish and cold. “But you lied to me.”

“I…” he trailed off, lowering his head slightly.

“Everyone keeps lying to me…”

_There was nothing he could say. So I left him there and took a long walk back to the bus station. I may have circled the city, I really don’t remember._

_I found a synagogue, one across town from the one I got ran out of. No one recognized me. I sat there and read a prayer book. I may have been looking for answers. I’d have to have questions first. I had a lot of those actually, but I didn’t know what to ask._

_If that makes any sense. As if any of this has made any sense._

_The agent sent me a text the next day. He told me he was sorry, but he understood why I was angry with him. I’ll give him his props, he left it at that. Two weeks later I texted him back that I forgave him, but that was it. Whatever may have been building between us was gone._

_Well, now I was out of a job which made for a very depressing birthday. Bernie threw me a little bit, giving me consulting fees on some cases while I figured out what to do. Lonette said she’d talk to her brother. While I appreciated that, I really did, I decided maybe… maybe I should do what I should have done in the first place._

_I should go home, try to start again._

_But if I had done that, I would have never met Frank. Never met Bernie. Never met Tyler. The McCurtain Foundation would have never been formed._

_You know it’s actually growing exponentially? We’ve gotten some great donors and… and I really hope those donors aren’t HYDRA in disguise. I’m sure they’re not. Tyler is much smarter about these things than I am._

_I may just be cursed._

_I’m going to stick around long enough to get stuff settled at the Foundation. I mean, I’ll still work with it from Connecticut and some things are best done in person. But my lease is going to run out in two months anyway so I might as well make a clean break of it._

_I’ll miss Lonette and the rest of the friends I’ve made. I’ll stay in touch, I just need to go home. I need to tell my parents the truth of what happened that day. I need to move on, not sure where to yet, but I need to get out of D.C._

_The reason I’m making this video is partly because of the therapeutic value. I have to admit, it’s been good to finally talk about everything that’s happened to me since the fall. There’s no damn sympathetic smiles staring back at me._

_But mostly it’s because when I told Bernie and Tyler about my plans, they told me they were sorry to see me leave. They… they called me a hero. Can you believe that? A hero for everything I’d done._

_I actually laughed at them. I mean, you’ve heard my story. Does that sound like a hero to you?_

_I… I was just trying to survive. Shit happened and I needed to figure out how to deal with it._

_So many others had it worse off than me. So many still do. And here I am running back home, because at least I have one to run to._

_Despite the truth, they still wanted to call me a hero. They said even though I knew Frank, I didn’t have to help him. I didn’t have to sell my Rogers’s sketchbook and start the Foundation. I didn’t have to help take down more HYDRA. And they’re right, I didn’t have to._

_But I didn’t do it to be a hero. I did it to assuage my guilt. I know I was lucky. I know I survived. I know that I could pick myself back up when so many couldn’t. Hashem saved me for a reason. I can only hope that I have done the right thing._

_So if that makes me a hero… well…_

_Then I guess there’s no accounting for heroes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ain't over yet!  
> Three more chapters to go!


	13. The Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay.  
> Not gonna lie though, we both were nearly reduced to tears on this one.  
> Enjoy! :)

“Why?” the potential donor had asked.

It was a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer. Because people were hurting and someone had to do something to help. 

But the truth was much more complex.

Rani now sat at her laptop, her finger resting on the enter key. In the previous days she had spent several hours in front her webcam. She’s wasn’t exactly sure what she was planning on doing, but once she got started she just couldn’t stop. Every truth, every emotion, were laid bare in front of her reflection. 

Then she spent days going over the video, first cutting out all the pauses, the moments where she kept herself from breaking down. Then she went over it again, using the free movie editor that came with her computer to cut and paste the narrative. Rani didn’t know why she bothered to put so much work into it, but she did it anyway. Even when she told herself she was done, she would find herself watching the video again and editing it even further.

Rani took out the references to actual names, anything that could lead people to know who she was talking about. She only thought it was polite. She left in everything about Bernie of course, but that was by design. Bernie was vocal about her causes, she wouldn’t want to Rani to shrink away from the truth.

And of course there was Frank and the Foundation. That was the whole point of the video blog. To let others know why. Why Frank. Why the Foundation. Why… why her.

Eventually she pared down the video to a reasonable length while not losing all the important events. She debated cutting out everything after setting up Tyler as the director. After all, the RedSand incident wasn’t important to the creation of the Foundation. Neither was the commentary about the swastikas that were still appearing on her door. The counseling session she went to didn’t seem relevant either. But she kept it all. She wanted people to understand. No, she needed herself to understand. 

This was what happened to her.

This is what she survived. 

Now that the video was complete, she sent it to Bernie and Tyler to make sure they were okay with the information she included about them. They took no issue with it, except to tell her she was wrong, she was a hero, in her own way. 

But she wasn’t a hero, she was just an accountant.

Rani uploaded it to YouTube and she picked a screenshot that was flattering in that it didn’t show her on the verge of tears or anger. Then she needed to enter a description. She wrote just a few short words explaining that the video was the story of how the Frank McCurtain Foundation came into being. About how a former S.H.I.E.L.D. accountant survived the Fall. How she survived a world of heroes and magic. 

Inspiration struck Rani and she entitled it _No Accounting for Heroes_. 

Well, there’s no accounting for taste.

All she had to do was confirm the upload and it would be out there for the whole world to see.

Rani’s hand hovered over the enter key for a moment. With a deep, resounding sigh, her eyes closed, she pressed down and it was done. The last year of her life was now on display. Anyone and everyone could watch it… and comment on it. 

Making a promise to herself that she would not look on the comment section, ever, she closed down the browser. Sitting there, staring at her reflection in the dark blue wallpaper of the computer screen, she could see how much she had changed. Like she had aged twenty years in only one. The lines of her face leaner, harder. 

She knew she could never go back, but now she could move forward.

The next day she checked the view count, twenty eight people. She supposed that wasn’t too bad since she didn’t exactly advertise the video. She’d tell Tyler about it the next time they met for Foundation business. He could decide what he wanted to do with it.

The day after that comments started to show up but she staunchly refused to view them. It was tempting, but if the media had taught her anything, it would only end in tears.

Then she got busy helping Bernie with a case and forgot to check the numbers. Then she needed to start packing up her apartment. It became easier to simply forget she had ever put the video on the internet. If she thought about it, she’d second guess herself. 

It got down to the last week she’d be in her apartment, so Rani only bought a couple of groceries. Just a few non-perishable items to get her through. There was nothing worse than having to throw out perfectly good food because it wouldn’t travel from D.C. to Connecticut. 

So mentally engrossed in packing up her kitchenware, which boxes would work best for the plates and cups, Rani didn’t notice a couple staring at her on the bus. They had their phones in their hands, glancing between the screen and her. When the bus got to her stop she didn’t notice them staring at her through the bus windows. 

Rani made the short walk to her apartment building, opting to take the elevator this time. When she got to her door, she let out a long, dry sigh. Yet again there was a yellow swastika painted bright and bold. This time something inside her snapped.

“Are you happy now?!” Rani shouted as loudly as she could muster. “I’m leaving! But not because of you! I am NOT a Nazi!”

Entering her apartment, she slammed the door behind her. Throwing the groceries on the table, Rani went into the kitchen. Banging the cabinet doors as she went through them, she couldn’t remember where she had moved the can of vandal cleaner while she was packing up.

Part of her wanted to just leave the swastika, not to put the effort in one last time. Part of her couldn’t stand to sleep knowing it was there. 

Finding the can on the counter, tucked behind some oven cleaner and other supplies, she grabbed it and a rag. Mumbling some impolite words towards whoever was leaving the swastikas, she nearly stomped back towards the door. Grabbing the handle, she twisted and jerked the door open. 

Rani froze, nearly dropping the can and rag. 

“Hi,” the man on the other side of the doorway said. He had his hand raised as if he was about to knock. “Rani Feldman?”

“Uh,” was all she able to muster as her fingers slipped from the doorknob. So many thoughts went through her head that she somehow managed to only focus on one. She thought he’d be broader.

“Let me get that,” Steve-Captain Freaking America-Rogers said as he took the can and rag from her. He placed something on the side table then proceeded to squat down in front of the open door. He sprayed it with the vandal cleaner and started to wipe, smudging the lines. 

Captain America was cleaning her apartment door. Rani was seeing this but hardly believing it.

Rani watched, paralyzed and transfixed. Steve Rogers was a true hero, a legend. Rani would literally not be alive today if it wasn’t for him saving her grandmother’s village. And there he was, right before her, wiping away the hateful graffiti.

“I remember her,” he said near casually as he scrubbed, “your grandmother, and great grandparents. They were good people. Your grandma was a real spitfire,” he paused as he chuckled. “She stole Dum Dum’s hat right off his head, and he didn’t even see it coming.”

So the story about the hat was true. Rani didn’t really doubt her grandmother but to hear it from an eye witness…

“And your great-grandma,” Rogers kept talking, “She made these amazing dumpling things with meat. I haven’t found anything like it since.” 

“Uh, Varenyky with beef and spices, sautéed onions on top all wrapped in dough.” Rani told him near automatically. It was the family’s secret, been passed down for generations, “From the sketches it also looked like she baked challah and made boscht. Where she found that much beef during the war is anyone’s guess.” 

“Huh,” Rogers said with an appreciative tone and he continued to clean, “that would explain it. She had most of the Commandoes eating out her hand. Got four marriage proposals even though she was ‘happily married but she’d take it under consideration’.” 

From what she had heard of her great grandmother, this came as no surprise to Rani. However, the fact that Steve Rogers was right in front of her, talking about her family like he was a friend they hadn’t seen in forever. “Did… did you watch my video?”

“Several people forward it to me.” He sprayed a little more of the chemical onto the rag. “Sam, Nat, even Doctor Foster’s assistant. I have no idea how she got my email. But yeah, I watched it, and I remembered that mission.” He paused, his voice trailing off as he fell into that thin line between wistful and melancholy. “I remembered drawing that picture and giving it to little Sofya (Sof-ya). Never thought it’d end up on an auction block.”

“Uhhh.” Her breathing increased and she found her words lost inside her throat. 

“It’s okay,” he told her and wiped at the last bit of paint. “You did a good thing. You took my drawing, no more than a scrap of paper, and saved lives with it.” He glanced up at her. “I couldn’t be more proud.”

Tears welled up Rani’s eyes and a hand flew to her mouth to choke back a sob. 

“Oh, ah, don’t do that,” Rogers said as he stood, leaving the supplies on the floor. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Rani replied as she willed herself to stop crying, with only moderate success. She grabbed some paper towers that were conveniently nearby, sitting on packed boxes. She blew her nose and mumbled, “Sorry,” a few more times.

“Don’t be sorry,” he assured her. “You’ve been through a lot. Most of which you didn’t sign up for. Sometimes you just need a good cry.”

“Says Captain American,” Rani mumbled back before she could stop herself.

“I’ve done my fair share,” he replied evenly, “trust me. All grief is valid, and crying is just a part of it.”

Rani closed her eyes and took a slow and steady breath. “Thank you,” she said as she opened her eyes, “though I’m not exactly sure what for yet,” she admitted with an attempted smile, “but I do feel a thousand times better about… everything.”

There it was, her guilt over selling the book fading away. Maybe hearing that reassurance from a complete stranger did it. Or maybe just from Captain America himself. It reminded her she did the right thing; even if that meant giving up something you hold dear so you can help someone else. 

“I’m glad,” he offered her a subdued smile. “Your family was incredible. It was an honor to have met them. I’m glad it runs in the family.”

“Thank you,” she felt on the verge of tears again.

“The reason I came by, Rani,” Rogers continued on, “is that the Avengers have put together a permanent team, of sorts. We’re still working out the details and getting up off the ground. Stark is fitting the bill, and, well, I’m sure he could use a good accountant.”

Rani blinked. “Are you offering me a job?”

“Pretty much,” he gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “You were right. A lot of people fell through the cracks left by S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fall. We all had chances to do more. I’m just as guilty at getting wrapped up in, well, things that mattered more to me on a personal level. There’s no excuse for it.” 

“You’re Captain America,” Rani said quietly, “even you can’t be expected to save everyone.”

“I know,” he replied sadly, “but I can try, that’s all any of us can do. And for what we can’t do ourselves, we support the ones who can. The Foundation was a great idea. I know Stark sent one of his reps to meet with Mr. Popov. You can expect a sizable donation.”

“Oh,” Rani’s eyes widened, “Thank you.”

“Thank Stark.” Rogers smiled. “I didn’t even have to talk him into it. He’s also the one who suggested we hire you. He said a trustworthy corporate accountant is worth their weight in tritium.”

“Tritium?” 

“A radioactive isotope of hydrogen.” He grinned sheepishly. “I had to Google it.”

Rani made a mental note to look up how much it was worth. “Um, well, can I think about it? I’m not having the best track record lately.”

As much as Rani wanted to jump at the idea of working for Stark Industries, she was still reeling from S.H.I.E.L.D. and RedSand. Her parents were expecting her next week and soon it would be the one year anniversary of the Fall. 

“It’s a standing offer,” Rogers seemed to understand her reluctance. “Take your time and think about it.”

“Thank you.” Rani nodded and offered him a light smile. “I’m going to wait to make any more big decisions. I was also informed recently I haven’t had a vacation in a long time. I think I’m overdue.”

“Won’t argue with that,” he chuckled lightly, then reached over to grab the item he had set on the side table. “Regardless of your decision, this is yours to keep.”

Rani frowned as she took the item, a padded manila envelope. It looked nearly new, the flap wasn’t even turned down. Looking inside, she only saw plastic. She reached in and her fingers clasped around something solid, but a tad malleable, like a soft cover book. When she pulled the plastic-wrapped item out, it took a good minute before her brain could register what she was looking at.

“How…?” was all Rani could mutter as she stared down at the field notes sketchbook she had sold off. 

“Money,” Rogers answered simply. “Lots of money. Stark’s money. He really should keep his credit cards away from where Natasha can pick pocket them.”

She barely heard a word he said, it was everything she could do to keep from breaking into sobs again. “Can… can I hug you?”

Rogers smiled and spread his arms a bit, showing his consent. Rani wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, the book held firmly in her hand. “Thank you,” she said twice before releasing him. “You were my grandmother’s hero. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“I’m glad I can repay their kindness,” he replied with a smile. “I was going to sign it for you, but apparently a post-defrost signature on a pre-death piece actually decreases the value.”

Rani scrunched her face. “Art is so weird. I think I’ll stick to math.”

“We all have our strengths,” he chuckled.

“Hey, Rani,” she heard Lonette’s voice out in the hall, heading towards her open door, “did you know you’re on the news?”

Lonette stepped through the door and nearly ran into Rogers who had turned towards her. She had been looking at her tablet so when she glanced up she startled at the sight of, “Captain America!”

“Ma’am,” he nodded and smiled at her, then turned back to Rani. “Well, I just wanted to come by and thank you in person, and to drop that off.” He gestured to the book. “Have a think about Stark’s offer. But whatever you decide, never stop being a hero, Rani.”

“I’m not a hero,” Rani frowned at him, “you’re a hero.”

“I’m your grandmother’s hero,” he smiled and nodded towards the book, “you’re their hero.”

Rani held the sketchbook tighter. She thought of all the people she had helped by selling it. Could she really be a hero? 

Rogers said a quick goodbye and slid past a still gapping Lonette into the open hallway. “Oh, and I’ll ask Hill to send someone to look into this swastika thing. You’re leaving, I know, but they’ll figure out who it was and make sure the authorities do something about it.”

With that, Rogers disappeared down the hall. Rani could hardly believe any of this even happened. If it wasn’t for the book which felt too heavy in her hands, she would have thought it all a fever dream.

Lonette had stuck her head out the door to watch him go. She then turned to Rani with wide eyes. “That was Steve Rogers!”

“I know.” Rani kept staring down at the book. 

“Steve Rogers was in your apartment!” Lonette was absolutely in awe. “Wait, why was Steve Rogers in your apartment?”

“He saw my video,” Rani told her as she held up the book. “He remembered my grandmother and brought her book back to me.”

“That is so sweet!” Lonette smiled brightly, then she shook herself. “Oh, that’s why I came over, you’re on the news.”

Lonette shoved her tablet towards Rani who took it in one hand. The screen was paused but it was pretty clear what was happening. A news anchor was sitting at her desk while a screen cap from Rani’s video was up in the right hand news corner. The scroll at the bottom was _No Accounting for Heroes: Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent’s Video Blog Goes Viral._

“Oi vey,” Rani muttered and Lonette tapped the screen to unpause it.

“In related S.H.I.E.L.D./HYDRA news,” the anchor started speaking, “the YouTube video ‘No Accounting for Heroes’ has gone viral with over three hundred thousand views in the past two days.”

“WHAT?” Rani was floored, she hadn’t been checking.

The news cut to a segment of the video. _“When the dust cleared, I probably spent a good ten minutes staring out at the wreckage. The main building was down, a hellicarrier was in the Potomac, flashing lights were everywhere, and the sky was littered with helicopters. I wanted to go back to my office to grab my phone and bag but found the way blocked. Something big and metal, I think a turbine blade, had crashed through the wall.”_

“The video was uploaded by former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Rani Feldman,” the anchor managed to get her name right. “It details events after the infamous fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. nearly a year ago. It highlights the impact that the Fall had on S.H.I.E.L.D. support staff and their families. Those who activists such as Bernadette Rosenthal have called ‘invisible victims’. The video went viral after being posted on a IsHeHydra message board on Thursday.”

Lonette paused the video. “That’s all that they have, they only aired it like two hours ago.”

Before Rani could reply, her phone started to go off. She was so overwhelmed by what just happened, both Rogers and the viral video, that she went towards the sound on autopilot. She sat the book on the table next to her purse and pulled out her phone.

“Hey,” it was Bernie, “have you seen the news?”

“Yeah,” Rani glanced over at her friend, “Lonette just showed me. And Steve Rogers was here. He watched it too! He brought me back the book.”

“Uh, wow,” Bernie was obviously not expecting that revelation. “Steve Rogers, _the_ Steve Rogers?”

“ _The_ Steve Rogers,” Rani started to giggle because it all felt surreal. 

“Okay, let’s table that,” Bernie replied, clearing her voice and audibly trying to focus. “Um, I just got a call from the Huffington Post, and another from Fox News. They want to interview you about your story.”

Rani nearly choked, then laughed nervously. “No, no no no no. I don’t do interviews. I am not good with people, or public… things.”

“You put your whole story on the internet,” Bernie pointed out.

“That was catharsis!” she nearly shouted. “And I wasn’t expecting… this.”

“Okay, fair,” Bernie said calmingly, “but we can’t ignore it. Come by my office once you’d have time to decompress, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She nodded even though Bernie couldn’t see her. 

Bernie ended the call and Rani picked up the book again. Turning it over in her hands, listening to the crinkling of the plastic baggy it was in. It was back, her grandmother’s book was in her family again. 

Lonette was tapping at her tablet. “I’m going to check out this thread on IsHeHydra.”

“Okay,” Rani told her, still transfixed on the book.

As she picked it back up, she really couldn’t believe it. Steve Rogers visiting her. He gave her back her book. Getting offered a job in Stark Industries or the Avengers possibly? The Foundation was going to get a large donation. Her video had gone viral…

“Oh no.” Rani fumbled with her phone.

“What’s wrong?” Lonette asked.

“If they’re talking about it on the news,” she pulled up her frequent contacts, “if it’s being forwarded around, my parents might have seen it.”

“Oh!” Lonette knew Rani hadn’t told them about Wilkerson yet.

Rani dialed her mother and part of her hoped that maybe she wouldn’t answer. That would only be avoiding the inevitable though. 

“Rani,” her mother answered.

“D…,” her throat went dry, “did um…did you see it?” 

“If by it you mean did I see the video that Mrs. Greenburg forwarded on the Synagogue weekly email,” began her mother, “then yes mumellah, I did. We all did.” 

“Oh.” Rani braced herself. 

“While I don’t like that you sold the sketchbook…” the words weren’t as harsh as she was expecting, “I know it was yours to do with as you wish and, well, we’re all really proud of you Rani.” 

“Really?” Rani was almost too shocked to manage a reply. Her family had been supportive of her, but they never knew, up until that point, the full extent of what she had gone through. She would have told them, eventually, at some point in the future, the far future.

“Oh honey,” she could hear the tears flowing down her mother’s face, “you’re so brave and so smart. Of course we’re proud of you. You’re amazing. Forget Captain America and Iron Man, we have a hero right here in the Feldman family. Bubbe Sofya would be so proud of you too.” 

Rani let the tears flow, touching her star of David while holding the sketchbook closer to her chest.

“Thanks, Mom,” she managed to utter, glancing down at the book, “but, uh, about the sketchbook. I’m going to have a really funny story to tell you when I get home.” 

“We can’t wait to hear it,” the smile was evident in her mother’s voice. Like perhaps she already knew it was returned to her. “Oh, I was going to wait to tell you, but the shul wants you to speak. The Rabbi stopped by personally and they want you to talk about what happened. Obviously I know it isn’t something you’d like to do,” her mother had moved on from crying to fighting mode in a swift transition, “but I think a few people in the congregation owe you an apology and good hard dose of truth about what it means to be Jewish.” 

“Oh, I don’t know, Mom. Can I think about it?” Great, she had gone from lowly Accountant, to glorified Starbucks worker, to humanitarian, to a fifteen-minute celebrity in the span of a year. What was next? 

“Of course,” her mother assured her. “Also, Channel six called.” 

Rani let out a bit of a nervous chuckle. “Apparently so did the Huffington Post and FOX News.” 

“You have to go on FOX,” she replied then paused, “well, think about it anyway. Maybe take that smooth talking Bernie Rosenthal with you as backup. Just remember, Rani, we love you so much, you’re… you’re absolutely incredible.” 

A few more tears rolled down Rani’s cheek out of pure happiness. For the first time since the morning she arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. for what would be her final day on the job, she felt relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go!  
> Well, one chapter and an epilogue really. :)


	14. The Accountant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to get this up.  
> But here we go, the penultimate chapter.  
> Thank you for reading!

Chapter 14 – The Accountant

“That the last of it?” Rani’s father called from the back of the garage. 

“Yeah,” she yelled out as she sat down a box marked ‘kitchen’ on top of one marked ‘books’. 

Rani couldn’t have gotten out of her apartment and back to her parents fast enough. It had been three days since her video had gone viral. Three days since Steve Rogers had visited her and returned her book. Three days since her life had been irrefutably changed.

“It will all be safe in here,” her father said as he walked past the stacks of boxes. 

“Can you stuff me into one of these then?” Rani replied somewhat dejectedly. 

“I could,” he smiled gently at her, “but you’d only last about ten minutes before your leg or your arm got cramped. I don’t think we have boxes big enough for you to hide in.” 

Shaking her head, Rani gave her father a hug and they headed across the back yard towards the house. When they got inside, her mother was cooking borscht on the stove while chatting on the phone.

“Yes, I can absolutely see the wisdom of Solomon in my daughter, Aida, yes, I am positive you will see her at temple,” she was saying, with a specific tone of annoyance. “And here is Rani now. Yes, I will pass that along. I have to go now, goodbye.”

Rani’s father gave her an encouraging side hug, then headed into the living room. Her mother called her over to have her taste the borscht. 

“Mmm, that’s good,” Rani said as she sipped on the red, beet soup.

“Just like always,” her mother replied proudly, having been using her own grandmother’s recipe for decades. 

“Was that Aida Greenberg on the phone?” asked Rani.

“The one and only,” she sighed. Rani’s mother liked Aida, but Aida could talk an ear of an elephant. A smile still spread its way across the elder Feldman’s lips. “Everyone at the shul is really proud of you, you know. Rabbi Katzman told the entire congregation last Shabbat how fortunate we were to know you.” She tasted the borscht, before adding a bit more pepper to it. “Rabbi came right to our door the day after your video was posted. He said the conversation you had with him made sense now.” 

“Oh, Mom,” begged Rani, knowing where this was going despite repeatedly pointing out that public speaking was not her forte. “Please don’t make me.” 

“Look Rani, I’m proud of you, no matter what, and your dad and Rabbi Katzman are too.” She placed her hands on Rani’s shoulders. “But like it or not, you did something incredible, and people want to hear more, they want to see you and ask you questions and tell you how much you mean to them. Now take the courage of Ester, or Miriam, or whoever you need to, and go and talk to your congregation.” 

“I’ll think it over,” she promised with a sigh. 

“Well you don’t have much time, Rabbi wants you to speak Thursday night.” 

Rani let out a huffed breath, moving away to sit down at the kitchen table. 

Her mother left the borscht to finish cooking and turned to Rani. “You can do this, besides, if you’re going to be on tv, what better place to practice than in front of people who’ve known you your entire life?” It wasn’t her best pep talk, by a long-shot, but her mom had a point.

Rani had poured her guts to total strangers on the internet, she was trending on social media, and every day friends and relatives they hadn’t talked to in years called to check in on her. Maybe there were still loose ends to tie up, a few things to readdress. She was going to regret this. She wasn’t a celebrity, she wasn’t anyone important. 

She was an accountant. 

“Fine, call Mrs. Greenberg, call the Rabbi, I’ll do it.” 

Her mom practically jumped out of the chair and went to make some calls. 

After dinner, Rani retired to her room early. She said so she could catch up on unpacking, but mostly she just laid on her bed. Could she really go in front of everyone to talk about the things that were so easily spilled to a blank screen? How could she be the hero everyone said she was, when she was only an accountant?

…

Rani unconsciously hid herself inside her gathered family members as they headed into the temple. It had now been a week since her video went viral and her fifteen minutes of fame hadn’t faded away. In fact, with so many new stories coming out about the actions of rogue-SHIELD agents, the Avengers, and Hydra, it was a news story no one seemed to want to let go of.

Everyone had an angle on it. Some called it SHIELD propaganda that was trying to somehow garner sympathy for the fallen agency. Others believed it some kind of call to arms against all perceived wrongs, whether or not they applied to the situation. It didn’t seem like anyone understood it for what it was… a story of survival.

A story she was going to tell again to a room full of people. Those she knew, those who were family, who were friends, who she grew up with, who she knew by extension, and who she had never been properly introduced.

Tonight was a special event, chuck full of people. Those who came every Friday for services, the ones who only came on the high holidays, parents who only set foot in the temple to pick up their children from Hebrew school, and those who had never even set foot into temple. Jews and non-Jews. 

The temple was overflowing, security guards keeping the chaos to a minimum as people found their seats. As soon as the Feldman’s entered, everyone crowded around them, questions spewing out like a sea of indiscernible words. Were they even speaking English? 

Rani couldn’t do this. No way. Nope. She had to take the chance to run and hide while she still had it. But the Rabbi, seeing the Feldman family, stepped in to give them some breathing room to move. Katzman motioned them towards the front row, which had “Reserved” signs placed on them.

Andrea sat not too far from the reserved section, her arms folded, as her mother talked her ear off. She saw Rani, and Rani saw her, and while no words were exchanged, the glances they sent each other spoke volumes. Of course, Rani never called Andrea out by name in her video, but she doubted it took very long for the community to put two and two together.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats, we’ll begin in a moment,” called Rabbi Katzman. 

Rani sat quietly, hoping no one be looking at her. Unfortunately, that would not be the case, as everyone was staring, and it felt like a boulder pressing down on her. 

Katzman took to the podium and asked for silence with his hands. “Thank you everyone for coming tonight. Regular services are tomorrow evening as usual, but tonight, I want to introduce a young woman with whom I have known her entire life, who has done the amazing, a woman who truly represents the spirit of Tikkun Olam… Rani Feldman.” 

She swallowed hard and stood up amid applause. Applause for what? For standing up? For living? No applause would change what happened to the people who died in the Fall, the people who died because of neglect and prejudice in the aftermath, and those who still struggled to that day. 

Holding on for dear life to the podium she took a deep breath. “Th… Thank you Rabbi Katzman. It… um… it’s is an honor to be here. The… the thing is… I… T… Tikkun Olam is about kindness and charity done to… s…” she took short, shallow breaths, trying to get her bearings. 

“Tikkun Olam means to make a difference in the world, in order to make it a better place. I can’t say that I specifically tried to do that, or that I would have done it, had I not known the person who scavenged for food that day behind the coffee shop. I can’t. G-d works in mysterious ways and I don’t plan on trying to figure out what those are… um…” 

Rani looked at her parents and cousins who sent her encouraging smiles. Her mother mouthed that everything was going to be okay and she was doing a decent job. Rani could work with that. 

“What I have to tell you is that my experience and everything I poured out into that YouTube video wasn’t about bravery or exposing an injustice, or a political statement. In fact, as everyone at temple knows, I hate attention.” Some people laughed, a few nodded. 

“My story was just a coping mechanism, a way for me to be able to function in the world again, to find some semblance of sanity that I lacked. It was all about survival.

“As a people, it seems that all we do is survive, regardless of what the world thinks of us. Whether we’re labeled as rats or as fascists, we survived. 

“We survived persecution after persecution, hatred, pogroms, and genocide, and somehow, we’ve managed to still be here.” She laughed to herself. “We’ve ended up touching the world in every way shape and form. I suppose this was my part. 

“I look out at the world, where people with powers save everyone, from entire cities to the old lady in Brooklyn who had her purse stolen. We live in a strange world of superheroes, magic and mayhem, and we have to ask ourselves: Where does G-d, exist in all of this? Where do we fit in, and is there room for Tikkun Olam, or anything of the sort? 

“The answer… is there has to be. 

“Because we outnumber the superheroes by a wide margin, and we have to expect better of ourselves and our fellow man! For me, I suppose that meant I’ll have an aversion to vending machines for the rest of my life. But in the end, I guess it’s a small price to pay for the fact that I am here, while others are not, and I am able to help and to try to make the slightest difference.”

…

After the services, Rani leaned against the frame of the archway that led into her parents dining room. The whole family was there, lined down the table, chatting away as they passed food around. It was almost like the scene from a movie. But not a Hallmark film, otherwise she would have gotten the guy by now.

Instead… it looked like the sketch from her book. 

Grabbing her phone out of her pocket, Rani quickly opened the camera app. As she framed the image, she could see it. From her father holding little niece Malka at the head of the table, to her cousin Isaac at the other end smiling at her because of something he himself had said earlier. Snapping the picture, she couldn’t help but marvel at how much it resembled the sketch. 

Ducking out, she went to her dad’s office and used his photo printer. Once she had the photo in hand, she grabbed a sharpie and wrote the date and time on the back. Then she went upstairs to her room, pulling the fire-safe box from under her bed. Opening it up, she was glad she hadn’t gotten around to putting it back in a bank vault just yet. 

As she laid the photo at the bottom of the box, carefully placing the plastic incased sketchbook over it, Rani asked herself if this is how Steve Rogers felt that day. He had won the battle, but the war still waged on. 

A war that still needed to be fought.

…

“What was I thinking?” Rani sat staring blankly at the blue wall of the Green Room.

“You probably weren’t,” Bernie said, not looking up from her phone. 

“Great,” Rani replied blandly, “thanks.”

Bernie chuckled, then tucked the phone away in her pocket. “You were thinking that this is an important story, because it’s your side of the story, and it needs to get out there to everyone,” the joviality fell from her face, “or else others will suffer the same fate as Frank.”

Rani stared at her for a good minute, letting the words sink in, even though they were already written deep into her bones. 

“Ladies.” One of the production crew stuck their head through the door. “If you could come with me please, we need to set you up for the interview.”

“Right with you,” Bernie said cheerily and basically ushered Rani out the door to follow the man. 

They were sat down in tall chairs at a bar-height desk and fitted with a mic. Someone fussed over them to make sure their hair and makeup was presentable. The production guy told them they would do a promo shot right before the commercial break. They just had to sit there and smile at the designated camera as one of the anchors said, “And after the break, we have former SHIELD agent turned activist Rani Feldman along with activist lawyer Bernadette Rosenthal. We’ll be discussing the real fallout from the S.H.I.E.L.D.-HYDRA revelation. Don’t miss it.”

“And clear,” one of the other crew members said.

There was a bit of a hustle as an anchor came over and sat down on the other side of the table. “Brenda Swanson,” she introduced herself as she was given the same fussy treatment. “It’s great to have you two on the show. So good of you to give us an exclusive first interview.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Rani said as she kept staring over at the bank of cameras.

“Don’t sweat it.” The anchor smiled as everyone cleared away. “Just look at me, talk to me like we’re just having a conversation, just the two of us, but keep your answers quick and concise, we only have two segments for this.”

“Right.” When Rani had called Bernie and told her that she would do an interview, she hadn’t known it was going to be live. She had expected to be interviewed and it would be put together for a show. Bernie said that would come later, the point was to get the narrative on the air, now. Live was better because they couldn’t edit it to fit an agenda. Their message would go out right the first time, then everything else would have to follow suit. 

“Alright,” the production man yelled, “back in six, five, four…” the three, two, one was done silently with just him ticking down his fingers.

“Welcome back to the Early-Late Show, I’m Brenda Swanson.” She gave a slight pause for effect. “It’s been over a year since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, an event that has sent ripples of chaos in its wake, much of which is still being felt. No one knows that better than the two ladies sitting with me here today.” There was a camera change and Brenda turned towards her guests. “No stranger to our offices here, Bernadette Rosenthal, civil rights attorney and advocate for the so-called ‘silent victims’ of the fall. Victims such as Rani Feldman, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent whose personal account of The Fall, and its aftermath, went viral last month. Rani, I would like to start with you.” 

Brenda looked straight at her and Rani near panicked. “In your video, No Accounting for Heroes, you recount what seems like a rollercoaster of events, and I think the first thing we need to ask is how are you doing? How are you coping with all that’s happened?”

“Um… well… I’m okay.” She tried her best not be awkward, failing miserably. “Like I said in the video, I did it for catharsis, I honestly didn’t think it would get as far as it did. I’m just blown away.” 

“And what are you doing now?” asked Brenda. “You’re not working at the café anymore, right?”

Rani chuckled at the seemingly ludicrous question. “Uh, no, I decided to take some time for myself and to reassess my life for the moment. I’m not quite sure what I’ll be doing next.” 

“Tell me, Rani, in your video you talk about how RandSand went down. What exactly happened with that?” 

“I couldn’t tell you any more than I already said,” Rani replied. 

“But surely you could give our viewers something?”

Rani felt her blood boiling, these were not the questions she was expecting. It wasn’t what was important. “My lips are sealed, sorry, call it a matter of National Security and leave it at that.” 

“But you’re no longer with a federal agency,” Brenda continued and Rani kept herself from looking to Bernie for help.

“Just because someone is no longer the President of the United States, doesn’t mean they can reveal our secret intelligence,” Rani would later refer to that moment as the one where she snapped. “Now do you have a question in there I can actually answer?” 

Brenda looked surprised at the snark, probably expecting an easy target from a shy, timid accountant. She obviously forgot what Rani was capable of when provoked, not that Rani herself would ever forget.

“So,” Brenda smoothly continued on like a seasoned pro, “what’s next for you then?”

“Apparently doing an endless parade of talk shows and news interviews,” Rani replied almost bitterly, but everyone laughed and that broke the tension.

“I have to ask, how has your family handled all of this?” Brenda pushed in a different direction. “It couldn’t have been easy to find out what happened to their daughter from a YouTube video.” 

“Yeah.” It was a sore spot that may have been Rani’s weakest. “I feel guilty about that, but I couldn’t talk about it, to anyone really. This is part of the reason I did the video, but again, I didn’t expect many to see it, for it to go viral. My parents are the talk of the synagogue now.” 

Brenda nodded and something made Rani think she was getting directions in her ear piece. “Did you ever find out who the random stranger at the VA, the one who steered you into group therapy, was?” 

“No.” Rani shrugged. “He seemed like a good guy. I hope I get the chance to thank him one day. He really helped me.” 

“Well,” Brenda smiled, “it seems like you’ve got your life figured out, which we sadly can’t say to others who have suffered under the Fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“Now hold on,” said Rani more forcefully. “That’s not what this is. Sure, I’ve come to terms, more or less, with what happened. But that doesn’t mean it’s all okay now. Nor does that mean that other people who were affected by this simply ‘haven’t figured their life out, yet’ either. Between PTSD and being treated like a plague on society these people are just trying to get through the day, the week.” Rani nearly forgot that there were cameras on her. “They just want to be able to put food on the table and go to work without the side-eyed glances, or just to find a job in the first place. The people the McCurtain Foundation are helping know exactly what they need. They just can’t get it because someone somewhere decided that all of SHIELD was Nazi Hydra agents.” 

“Well, Hydra aren’t Nazis.” 

“Yes, yes they are,” Rani nearly shouted, barely registering the smirk on Bernie’s face reflected in one of the displays behind Brenda. “Johann Schmidt, better known as the Red Skull, was head of the Nazi’s science division and before it went rogue, Schmidt was a personal friend and advisor to Hitler. It’s all in Arnie Roth’s book, _Nazis and Hydra, Birds of a Feather_. Just because Schmidt didn’t like the pace Hitler was going at, doesn’t mean he didn’t agree with his beliefs.” 

“You certainly are more than just an accountant, Miss Feldman,” Brenda said with a smile. “I would like to hear more but we need to cut to a commercial.” Brenda turned her head to face another camera and Rani knew, short of jumping up and screaming, her voice had been silenced, for now. “When we come back, a fascinating look at the victims of S.H.I.E.L.D. as we speak to Bernadette Rosenthal and the potential law-making cases she currently has under her belt, and the legal struggles to help victims of The Fall.” 

The producer gave the all clear and a hoard of people descended on Brenda to give her notes and make sure her hair and make-up were still set. Bernie gave Rani a slight nudge, smiling at her knowingly. Brenda had wanted a reaction, that made ratings, and Rani played into that. 

But Rani wasn’t shy when it came to the truth. And the truth was the only reaction anyone was going to get out of her. It was the only reaction worth having.

…

“There’s been like a zillion _The Fall of S.H.I.E.L.D._ specials,” Rani pointed out as she sat with Bernie in a restaurant.

“True.” Bernie was doctoring her coffee with entirely too much fake sugar. “This one is different, they got Rogers, Sharon Carter, and even Romanoff to interview for it.” 

“Really?” Rani blinked. “How did they pull that off?”

“It’s being done for PBS,” she told her. “It will run during their annual fundraising drive. It’s also being done by Ken Burns and some other legit historians. In theory, it’s going to be unbiased and educational.”

“And they want to interview me?” Rani was getting really tired of that word: interview.

Over the past two months, Rani had given enough interviews she had lost count. She was pretty sure she hit every major news outlet, television and paper. She also spoke to the Jewish Federation of North America, the Jewish Community Alliance at the Sixth and I Synagogue, and the National Organization of Jewish Women’s Connecticut Branch Annual Breakfast. It was always the same story she told, the same one she posted on YouTube. Their questions varied, but essentially were the same as well. 

Yet so many people still hadn’t gotten the message.

Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were still getting the short end. The McCurtain Foundation was finding more and more people to help. Thankfully, donations were coming in by the barrel load. Rani was almost thankful she had lost her job because working on the financials for the foundation was turning into a full-time gig. 

“You’re an important part to the end of the story, Rani.” Bernie said as their dinner was delivered. Rani had a salad, her stomach too twisted for anything else, and Bernie going with a simple, American traditional steak. 

“The story isn’t over,” Rani pointed out, suddenly not even mildly hungry. 

“But this chapter isn’t.” Bernie started to cut into her steak.

Rani glanced over to the real reason they were having lunch, an innocuous brown envelope that sat to the side. Inside were the settlement papers for the wrongful death suit against Kelvin McCurtain. The jury had handed down a guilty verdict. Frank’s son was responsible for the death of his father by defrauding him of his money and shelter.

Kelvin was ordered to pay to his daughter the amount of all the money he took, plus some. And Rani was to receive restitution for Frank’s funeral expenses. All she had to do was sign the paperwork and she would start receiving an annuity from the funds garnished from Kelvin’s paycheck. It wasn’t a large weekly sum, and it would take years to pay off.

Was she supposed to take that money? It felt like she was being paid for doing what she thought any decent person would have done. Tikkun Olam and all that. But at the same time, the money would help put her back into financial stability, which she hadn’t had in a long time. She didn’t know what to do. It would have been wrong to take it. But at the same time… would it really?

…

“Shush, it’s starting,” Rani’s mother said as the family gathered in the living room around the television.

Rani didn’t know why her mother had to invite everyone to come see the PBS special about the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Rani was interviewed, yes, but she had such a small role in the whole thing. She wasn’t even in the first seven hours of the ten-hour documentary that ran in two-hour segments during the week. 

Bernie had been right about this program being done up properly with historians laying out the facts without any of the political bias. It started with the creation of S.H.I.E.L.D., showing old clips of Peggy Carter herself. It was said the woman was now suffering from Alzheimer’s, which was unfortunate, but perhaps a blessing as she wouldn’t know what happened to her dream.

Lots of time was spent on Pierce and his rise to power. Even with the data dump, there were still some parts of the story that may never be answered. 

A good chunk was spent on the Triskelion incident itself. Starting with the attack on Fury, then Roger’s subsequent declaration as an enemy of the state. Rani felt a bit nauseous during this part. Her dreams had finally managed to calm down to your typical ‘late for class and not wearing pants’ horrors. She didn’t need to be reminded about the bodies. 

_“The lights went out and an eerie red filled the room. The ominous words glared at me mockingly from the television. My friend let out a horrible wheeze as if every last micron of air left his lungs. I’ll never forget that sound.”_

Rani had authorized them to use any clips from her _No Accounting for Heroes_ video and it had hit her harder than she would admit, but not as bad as she feared. She was moving on with her life and accepting her role in what happened. It would never go away, not completely, but she could live with her actions. It was him or her, that was what she told herself, and she survived. Feeling guilty all the time hadn’t helped her. 

She needed to continue on, to move on, and to close this chapter of her life, as Bernie had suggested. 

The final two hours were airing, and she knew that she would feature more heavily as it discussed the ‘human cost’ of The Fall. Rani appeared, sitting against a dark blue backdrop. Her hair was down, and her Star of David could be seen sitting over her blouse.

_“Hydra managed to win one, it pulled the biggest con in history, like some sort of disease. It hooked its fangs, or whatever a hydra monster has, and poisoned an organization._

_“When the fall began I had no idea what was going on, it was all happening so fast. I could hear some of them talking, people shouting orders. They were targeting people. People I knew and worked with, all innocent because they didn’t believe what hydra believed, because their views didn’t align with the Hydra line. Because they dared to be different._

_“I was one of them, targeted for the crime of being Jewish. But there were many others who were attacked and murdered that day simply because they refused to take orders from Nazis.”_

The screen started to show clips the various wounded that came out of the damaged Triskelion, the homeless that were overflowing in the shelters, and signs of foreclosures and bills due. Rani’s voice spoke over the heartbreaking scenes.

_“Our history books speak of leaders, of emperors, of solitary heroes and generals. But the individuals, they are spoken of as nameless members of groups. Causalities of a battle led by the people whose name we’re told never to forget.”_

The image went back to Rani, a slight glisten in her eyes. 

_“But these individuals, the accountants, the mechanics, the cooks in the commissary, the mail room clerks… they have names, they have lives, and they are, in their own way, heroes. And they deserve to be remembered as such.”_


End file.
